Falling For Grace
by heylizzyhey
Summary: A Castiel/OC Love Story Saying that Grace is a fan of Supernatural would be an understatement, and the day when she accidentally meets her two favourite characters; Sam and Dean Winchester, is the day her life changes completely. Meeting Sam and Dean was one thing, but when Grace meets Castiel, her life was never going to be the same again...
1. Playlist:

**PLAYLIST:**

_Timshel_ – Mumford & Sons

_(Angel Of) Mercy _– OneRepublic

_Endlessly_ – The Cab

_I Choose You_ – Sara Bareilles

_Crossfire_ – Brandon Flowers

_Lovers Eyes_ – Mumford & Sons

_Angel With A Shotgun _– The Cab

_Just Me Before We Met_ – Noah & The Whale

_Let Her Go_ – Passenger

_Haunt_ - Bastille

_Another Love_ – Tom Odell

_Lovesick Fool_ – The Cab

_Falling_ – The Civil Wars

_Still _ – Daughter

_Wait For Me_ – Kings Of Leon

_Come Back When You Can_ – Barcelona


	2. Part One:

**Part One:**

_I'm not perfect, but I swear,_

_I'm perfect for you._

_And there's no guarantee,_

_that this will be easy._

_It's not a miracle you need, believe me._

_Yeah, I'm no angel, I'm just me,_

_but I will love you endlessly._

_Wings aren't what you need, you need me._

Endlessly, The Cab


	3. Chapter 1

**Part One:**

_I'm not perfect, but I swear,_

_I'm perfect for you._

_And there's no guarantee,_

_that this will be easy._

_It's not a miracle you need, believe me._

_Yeah, I'm no angel, I'm just me,_

_but I will love you endlessly._

_Wings aren't what you need, you need me._

Endlessly, The Cab

**Chapter One:**

Grace was sat down at her desk in her bedroom one Sunday evening, refreshing her emails every minute, waiting impatiently for _the_ email. It was an email that would either lead to disappointment or a chance in a lifetime. What she didn't realise was that that one email she was going to receive that day would change her entire life.

She knew it was a one-in-a-million chance of getting the email she wanted, but she couldn't help but hope.

Grace glanced at the clock on her bedroom wall. The second hand sounded louder than normal, but that must've been her imagination. She doubted her impatience and anticipation actually changed the mechanisms in the hand-painted clock.

She drummed her fingers on the wooden desk, and took a sip out of her coffee. She forgot she'd made it an hour ago, and pulled a disgusted face when she realised it was stone cold.  
"Eurgh," she grimaced, pulling a face, and got up to make another.

The kettle boiled and she was just pouring the hot water into the mug when she heard the familiar beep of a new email. Grace froze.

She hastily walked to the other side of the room in her studio flat and put the mug onto her desk, coffee spilling over the edge.

She doubled clicked on the message.

_To Ms Grace Stirling,_

_We are delighted to announce your winning of the 'Flying Wiccan Press: Publishers of Quality Science Fiction and Graphic Novels' Non-published Writer Non-published Writer's Competition 2009. You're scheduled meeting of Carver Edlund, author of 'Supernatural', will take place next Saturday, at three o'clock p.m. at the author's home in Missouri. A car has been booked from the airport to your hotel, with all expenses paid for._

_Many congratulations,_

_Jodie Wright,_

_Flying Wiccan Press Public Communications_

Grace froze for a moment or two, letting the information sink in, and then she started screaming in delight. She jumped up off her chair, knocking the desk before her and making more coffee spill over the lip of her mug. After running around her room a little, and jumping on her bed a few times in excitement, she sat down with her hands shaking slightly. She heard her neighbour bang on their wall, and she yelled back and apology. She couldn't stop grinning. She was going to meet Carver Edlund: the author of her favourite book series 'Supernatural'.

She reread the email, and opened up the enclosed download of plane tickets, where her first class seat had been booked between her home country of England, and Missouri in the States.

Grace had never been to the US before, but she had planned to take a year out of her degree in Creative Writing to go, even if she didn't win the writing competition which would give her the chance to meet any author who published with Flying Wiccan Press.

She printed out her one-way plane ticket, and the taxi cab confirmation letter. After folding them in two, she put them in her bedside table's drawer for safe keeping.

The plane was scheduled three days before meeting the author that inspired her to write, so she logged onto Google, and searched for popular tourist attractions of the state.

When she was reading online about the Gateway Arch her phone started to vibrate in her pocket, and realised it was a text from her mother. She'd forgotten all about telling people that she'd won, so she answered the phone call with a scream.

"Mum! I won!" she shouted, earning another bang on the wall from her neighbour, which she ignored this time.

"Congratulations, darling! I knew you'd win!" her mother, Joy, said affectionately; Grace could almost hear her mother smile by the tone of her voice. Her mother was the only one in her family that supported her pursuing a career in writing, as both her parents were surgeons, and her straight-laced father wanted his only daughter to follow the same path.

"Thanks, but oh my gosh I can't believe it! I won; I actually _won_!" she squealed, feeling as if she were about to hyperventilate.

"Breathe, Grace," her mother laughed. "When is your flight?"

"Wednesday," Grace replied. "I've got two days to pack."

"I know you, Grace, you'll have already packed your suitcase,"

Grace chuckled. "True."

"Okay, well I've got the chicken in the oven that needs taking out so I have to go, but come around for dinner tomorrow. We won't be seeing you until you get back, sweetheart,"

"Yeah I will do, and thanks, Mum, for everything,"  
"You're worrying me, darling, you sound as if you're not going to come back,"

"Of course I'm coming back! What do you think I'm gonna do?"

"Find some strange boy and get married and leave your poor mother all alone with your father,"

Grace laughed. "Yeah but what are the chances of finding a guy I like who's single and straight?"

"He's out there somewhere, Grace, we both know it, but don't get married until I've given him the Stirling seal of approval,"

"I won't," chuckled Grace. "Bye, Mum."

Grace ended the call, and leaned back into her chair. She had dreamed of meeting her idol on more than one occasion, but she'd never thought of it becoming a reality.

Five days later, Grace awoke Saturday morning and opened her eyes to the ceiling of her hotel room. This was it. She'd written at least fifty questions to ask Carver Edlund, but only one really stuck out; what happens after Dean goes to Hell?

She got showered and dressed into her comfy jeans and dark grey t-shirt, which were slightly ripped on the thigh and knees. Unlike a lot of girls her age, Grace's favourite jeans weren't ripped for fashion; she'd accidentally ripped them herself. She'd never been a slave for fashion trends, and dressed more for comfort and to express her personality.

She packed her drawstring rucksack with her notepad, pencil, camera, umbrella, purse and mobile phone, and grabbed her scarlet necktie that had belonged to her mother, but Joy had noticed how eight-year-old Grace loved wearing it, and had given it to her daughter.

She tied it around her neck and pulled out her long, black hair. She texted her mother like she had promised, and after fixing her hair in the bathroom mirror, which was still steamed up from her shower, she locked up her hotel room and walked downstairs to the breakfast buffet room with a spring in her step, and she tried and failed to stop smiling with excitement.

She grabbed a plastic tray and pursed her lips while reading the posters which had the menu. She couldn't make a decision between Lucky Charms cereal and hot apple pie, so she decided to get a bowl of each; it was all free so she was going to take advantage of it.

She checked her watch and pulled her bag onto her back, and left The Blue Ribbon Hotel after thanking the pretty, redheaded waitress who came to clear away her table.

She waited outside for a few minutes before she saw the company car pull in-front of the large hotel. She stepped forward and the front passenger seat window rolled down.

"Ms Stirling?" the man asked. Grace nodded and climbed into the backseat.

The car set off, and Grace started to feel the butterflies in her stomach.

"He's just another human being, like anyone else you've met, he just happens to write for a living," she muttered to herself under her breath. She didn't want to end up so star struck she wouldn't be able to ask the questions that had been picking at her mind since reading the final book in the series: 'No Help For The Wicked'.

"So what brings you to Missouri?" the driver asked her, glancing in the rear-view mirror.

"I'm meeting my favourite author," Grace said nervously. She wasn't particularly confident at meeting and talking to new people.

"Anyone I'll know?"

"Probably not, he wrote Supernatural but it's not a very popular series,"

She saw the driver nod, but didn't incline to say anymore, which Grace was grateful for.

The car finally pulled into a small detached house and Grace climbed out, pulling her bag over one shoulder. She took a deep breath before walking up to the front door and knocking twice.

The door opened to a man in his late thirties and he smiled slightly awkwardly, as if he was just as shy as Grace was.

"Hi, you must be Grace Stirling," he said slightly nervously and Grace nodded and smiled.

He welcomed her into his house, and she stepped inside. "I'm Chuck Shurley, by the way, not, uh- my name's not Carver Edlund."

Chuck Shurley's house wasas messy as Grace assumed it would be. Empty bottles of beer were clustered on a counter in the small kitchenette and books were scattered everywhere.

"So, erm, congratulations on winning that competition thing," he said. "I was surprised when they called me and said you chose to meet me of all the authors."

"You were my inspiration to write, really, it wouldn't have felt right for it to be anyone else,"

He smiled, his cheeks blushing slightly. "Do you want a drink?" he asked.

"Coffee would be great," Grace said warmly, and he walked into his kitchen. Grace heard him pouring water into the kettle before he came back into the living room where Grace was sat in a slightly warn out armchair.

"So, er, you probably have some questions?" he asked.

Grace nodded. "I wrote a load down in case I forgot them all, but I guess my first would have to be, what happens next? I mean, Dean's in Hell and Sam's gonna be distraught,"

Chuck nodded. "Well, you're right about that, and I've been planning to publish more books, you know, I need to earn a living somehow," he said with a shy laugh.

"You're writing again?" Grace cried, louder and more excitedly than she planned. "Sorry, but that's great!"

Chuck laughed, more settled in and comfortable with talking about his work. "Yeah, I've written a few drafts, and the series is moving on a bit from just hunting down demons and monsters,"

Grace nodded, grinning slightly. This was what she had imagined her Mirror of Erised to show; more Supernatural books on her bookcase at home.

"I don't suppose I could read a draft or two?" Grace asked shyly.

"I'm not supposed to because of copyright," Chuck said disappointedly. "But I guess I could give you a copy or two if you promised not to share them with anyone."

"Oh I wouldn't dream of it, besides, none of my friends got into the series," Grace said. "No offense."

"None taken, I think my books are corny," he smiled, and stood up. He walked to the other side of the room and started shuffling papers on his desk where his computer was placed.

He pulled out a couple of stapled booklets, which Grace realised to be manuscripts of the next books. She did her best not to scream out or squeal.

"These are what I have so far, I have another but I haven't finished it yet," Chuck said, giving her the booklets.

"Oh my gosh, thank you," she said breathlessly, holding the papers in her arms protectively like they were a new born baby.

She continued to ask him about the already published series, like which character was his favourite, how he got into writing, whether he was for or against major character deaths, when he wrote, and what he thought to selling movie or television rights to the series.

"How did the idea of Supernatural come to you?" Grace asked him finally.

"Believe it or not, the idea came to me in a dream-like vision. It was like all the characters and ideas were thrown at me at once, and all I had to do was translate it into book form. It has been like that for each of the stories," Chuck said, almost as if he wasn't sure he'd believe her.

Grace scribbled down his answers into her notebook. She knew one of the projects of her degree was an essay on authors who inspired her own writing, and she was going to use this experience to form part of it.

"I think that's it," Grace said at last.

Chuck nodded, and took a sip from his fourth cup of coffee. "So, you won a writing competition?" he asked.

"Yeah, for people taking a creative writing degree but without any published work,"

"What did you write?"

Grace blushed. "A Supernatural fanfiction," she said, embarrassed.

"Really?" he said, pleasantly surprised.

"Yeah, it was based on the relationship between Dean and Bella, you know, before you sent her to Hell,"

Chuck laughed. "Yeah, I was surprised when I wrote that, she was beginning to grow on me,"

"You sound as if you have no control over what you write,"

"Sometimes it feels like I don't; as if Dean and Sam have more control over their lives."

Grace smiled, knowing how that felt; characters felt so real sometimes it really was like they had minds of their own.

"Are you going to the fan convention?" Chuck asked her.

"The fan convention?" Grace repeated curiously.

"Well it was only really advertised in America but it was suggested to me to hold a Supernatural Comic-Con when I announce that I'm publishing again,"

"Oh my gosh I didn't know! When is it?" Grace asked, hoping she was able to go.

"A couple of weeks I think, I'll double check,"

Chuck got up and went back to his desk. Amongst the papers and mess there was a calendar, which after reading for a few moments, he looked back up and turned to Grace.

"Two weeks on Saturday," he confirmed. "I have a spare ticket if you want it. Here, I have a print-out of the online advertisement,"

He handed Grace a sheet of paper, which was a badly-designed poster for a fan convention of the Supernatural series. It advertised authentic and themed food and drink, a costume competition and a 'Ghost Hunt'; the hotel that was hosting the event had a ghost story of its own, so there was to be a role-play hunt for the ghosts that were supposedly haunting the hotel.

Grace grinned. Despite how corny it sounded, she was already excited for it. She'd never met anyone who had read the series, so she thought this was going to be an opportunity to meet new people she could talk to about a book series she was interested without making a fool of herself.

"I'm going," she said. "Wouldn't miss it for the world."

Grace arrived back at the hotel later that evening, and she grabbed the phone on her bedside table. She rummaged around in the table's drawer which was filled with leaflets and business cards, and she pulled out one for a local pizza take-away. She dialled the number and was greeted by a male voice with a strong American accent.

"Hi can I get a number three, please?" Grace said, trying to keep her voice loud and clear.

"Yeah, ham and cheese, right?" he checked.

"Yeah,"

"'Kay, what's your address?"

"The Blue Ribbon Hotel,"

"Okay, hey, are you British?"

"Um, yeah,"

"That's awesome, love your accent,"

"Thanks," Grace said awkwardly.

"No problem, you're pizza's on its way,"

"Thanks, bye,"

Grace put the phone down and sighed. She hated talking on the phone.

"Oh well," she thought aloud. "It didn't go too badly_._"

She opened her rucksack and took out the Supernatural manuscripts, placing them carefully on the bed. She took out the rest of her belongings, and put them in their places again.

She turned on her own phone and sent a quick text to her parents that there was a fan convention she was going to, but she'd text when she was going home and not to worry. Despite turning twenty last month and living at university most of the time, her parents still acted as if were still a teenager.

She picked up the manuscripts and threw herself onto the bed, bouncing slightly before getting herself comfortable onto her front. Grace had a very petite body shape and her chest was flat enough to sleep and lie on her stomach comfortably, although she often wished she had more curves.

She opened up the manuscript and sank into the world of Supernatural, oblivious to the own world she lived in.

Grace arrived at the fan convention five minutes before it was scheduled to start. After reading the manuscripts Chuck had given her, she decided to cosplay as Castiel, a fallen angel, who had saved Dean from Hell. She had become drawn to his character from the first introduction, and smiled to herself whenever he featured in the story. She knew none of the other fans would know who she was dressing up as, but the angel had become her favourite character, and she felt like if she'd dressed up as anyone else, she'd be betraying him. It was a bonus that she had dark hair and blue eyes like Castiel' vessel did.

She had bought a beige trench coat as Cas had been described as wearing, a white shirt, and a blue tie that she wore fairly loosely around her neck. She'd decided to wear her usual jeans and converse because of her limited budget. Besides, Chuck hadn't written what Castiel wore as trousers or shoes.

"Are you not taking part in the costume competition?" a voice asked from behind her. She turned to see a tall guy dressed authentically as Sam Winchester.

"Um, not really," she said after hesitation; deciding not to tell this guy that she was dressed as a future character. She owed Chuck that.

"Shame," the guy said.

"You make a good Sam," Grace said, trying to swallow down her nerves. Sam and Dean would keep a conversation going, so she would too.

"Thanks," he smiled. "I'm Barnes. Are you British by any chance?"

"Grace, and yeah I am," she laughed. "People keep pointing that out."

"Sorry," he said fairly awkwardly. "It's cool, though,"

Grace smiled warmly in response.

She saw a man dressed in a black suit and a yellow shirt standing inside the doorway to The Pineview Hotel, which was hosting the convention. He cleared his throat.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he called out. "I would like to announce that the first annual Supernatural convention has officially started."

The small crowd of fans, including Grace, yelled out a loud "Yeah!"

"If you would all like to follow me into the hotel reception before going to Meeting Room Three at one o'clock," the man, who Grace assumed to be the hotel manager, continued. He walked inside and they all followed.

The room had been decorated with posters of the book covers, and black posters with 'got salt?' typed onto them had been hung onto the wall behind the hotel bar, which was now serving drinks with a Supernatural theme, including a 'Yellow-Eyes Cooler', 'Demon Whiskey', and 'Ghost Sodas'.

Grace smiled, seeing dozens of Sam and Deans, a few Bobbys and the odd monster fill the hotel reception.

There was a stand in a corner of the room, where a 'demon' was selling copies of the books.

She spotted Will sat down with his matching Dean and a female Dean with a girl dressed as a demon. He caught her eyes and waved her over.

"Guys, this is Grace, who's British," Barnes said, introducing her to his friends. "This is my boyfriend Damian, and we've just met Amber and Sophie."

"Hi," Grace smiled nervously and took a seat.

"Not dressing up?" the female Dean, Amber, asked Grace.

"Nah, I'm on holiday but I didn't hear about the convention until two weeks ago, and I didn't have enough money to get a whole outfit," Grace said. It wasn't technically a lie; she had only heard about it and she'd only got half of Castiel's costume.

"Well there's always next year," the other girl, Sophie, said kindly, and Grace nodded.

Barnes checked his watch. "It's five to, should we head down so we can get a decent seat?"

"Sounds like a good idea," Amber said, and they all got up and headed over to a room with a sign stuck on the door with tape, reading 'Meeting Room Three'.

"Here we go," Damian said, and Grace and the others followed him inside.


	4. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two:**

Sam and Dean Winchester, the _real_ Winchester brothers, entered the meeting room with Becky after all the other fans had taken the front seats. There was a small stage at the opposite end of the room, where an upside-down pentagram hung with 'First Annual Supernatural Convention' was handwritten on. The brothers had only just started to get used to their lives being a book series; but one with fans who would turn up to an event like this overwhelmed them. If they could even _be_ overwhelmed.

The hotel manager, who had ushered them and Chuck inside, walked up on stage and leaned into the microphone.

"Welcome to the first annual Supernatural convention," he announced. At three forty-five in the Magnolia Room we have the panel: Frightened Little Boy: The Secret Life of Dean. And at four thirty, there's The Homoerotic Subtext of Supernatural."

Dean raised his eyebrows and opened his mouth slightly in shock, and his brother, Sam, frowned.

"Oh, and of course the big hunt starts at seven p.m. sharp," the man added.

The crowd erupted in cheers and applause, while the brothers we still getting their heads around 'homoerotic subtext'. Dean remembered how when booking motel rooms people assumed he and his brother were a couple, but a 'homoerotic subtext' of the novels that were based on their lives, was still hard to fathom.

"Okay, but right now," the man said, trying to quieten down the cheers. "Right now, I'd like to introduce the man himself. The creator and the writer of the Supernatural books. The one, the only, Carver Edlund!"

The crowd cheered again, and Dean and Sam watched Chuck walk on stage nervously.

Chuck was about to talk into the microphone, when it gave a little feedback and screeched. Chuck jumped back slightly.

"_Oh, God,_" Dean thought.

"Okay, good" Chuck started. "This isn't nearly as awkward as I-"

Chuck coughed, muttered "dry mouth" and coughed again. Dean heard Sam groan quietly.

After drinking half a bottle of water very loudly, Chuck restarted.

"Okay, uh, so I guess, er, questions?"

The each member of the audience raised their hand at once, and Chuck looked as outstanded as the brothers felt.

"Er, y-you?" Chuck said, pointing at a tall guy with large ears on the front row.

"Hey, Mr. Edlund. Big fan," the guy said. "Okay, I was just wondering, where'd you come up with Sam and Dean in the first place?"

Dean looked directly at Chuck, wondering what he would answer with; he was hardly going to tell them all he was a prophet of God and he had visions of two very real people.

"Oh, uh, yeah, I," Chuck stuttered. "It just came to me."

"_Hmm_," Dean thought. "_Sure, thanks to the freakin' angels_."

The hands rose again.

"Okay, yeah, the hook man," Chuck said, pointing at a guy in a long black coat and hat in the middle of the crowd.

"Uh, ja," the man started in a German accent. "Why, in every fight scene Sam and Dean are having, their gun or knife knocked away by the bad guy? Why don't they keep it on some kind of bungee?"

Sam frowned, thinking about the question. He tried to imagine killing a demon with an elastic string attached to the knife.

"I, yeah, I really d-don't know," Chuck stuttered.

"Ja, follow up," the German guy continued, interrupting Chuck. "Why can't Sam ad Dean be telling Ruby is evil?"

Sam scoffed quietly.

"I mean, she is clearly manipulating Sam in some kind of moral lapse. It's obvious, nein?"

Dean glanced over at his brother, and also noticed Becky clenching her jaw and glaring at the 'hook man'.

"Hey!" she shouted at him, and stormed over to his row. "If you don't like the books, don't read them, Fritz."

"Okay, okay," Chuck started, trying to calm down what was going to start to become an argument. "Just, er, okay, it's okay. So, next question."

The hands raised again, and a young man asked what happens after Dean goes to Hell.

"Oh, well, there lies an announcement, actually," Chuck said. "Erm, you're all gonna find out."

Dean frowned slightly.

"_What?_" he thought.

"Thanks to a wealthy Scandinavian investor," Chuck continued. "We're going to start publishing again."

The audience started applauding again, louder than ever, but Dean weren't paying attention. He was too busy glaring at Chuck.

Several minutes later, when Chuck left the stage and the crowd eventually stopped clapping and cheering, the brothers left the room with the rest of the audience.

Sam and Dean went into the hotel reception again, where all the fans were clustered around small coffee tables and armchairs.

They saw Chuck sat down at one with Becky, who was looking for a reason to escape, and marched over.

"Oh, hi Sam!" Becky called happily. Too happily for either of the brother's liking.

Sam nodded slightly, and she sighed.

"Excuse us," Dean started angrily. "In case you haven't noticed, our plates are kind of full, okay? Finding the Colt. Hunting the devil. We don't have time for this crap."

"Hey, I didn't call you," Chuck said, defending himself.

"He means the books, Chuck," Sam explained. "Why are you publishing more books?"

"Um, for food and shelter?"

"Who gave you the right to our life story?" Dean said sternly.

"An archangel," Chuck said. "And I didn't want it."

"Well, deal's off, okay?" Sam said, irritated. "No more books. Our lives are not for public consumption."

Sam looked at Becky, wondering how much she knows. She caught his eye and glanced at Chuck.

"Um, Becky?" Chuck said. "Would you excuse us for just a second?"

"Uh-huh," she chirped annoyingly, and they left the table.

"Do you know what I do for a living?" Chuck asked the Winchesters.

"Yeah, Chuck, we know," Sam said.

"Then could you tell me? Because I don't. I'm not a good writer. I've got no marketable skills. I'm not some hero who can just hit the road and fight monsters, okay?" Chuck said. "Until the road ends, I gotta live, all right? And the Supernatural books are all I've got. What else do you want me to do?"

Dean was about to answer when he noticed a girl sat at one of the coffee tables behind them. She wasn't sat alone, but unlike all the other fans he'd seen, she wasn't dressed as a character in the published books.

She was wearing a beige coat, a white shirt and a blue tie. Cas.

"Uh, Chuck, I thought you'd only published to where I was sent to Hell?" Dean said.

"I have," Chuck frowned.

"Then what is that?" he asked, pointing at the girl.

Sam raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Cas," he said.

"Oh, uh, she's a fan I met a couple of weeks ago," Chuck said. "She asked what happens next and I gave her a copy of the manuscripts for the next few books."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "You gave her parts of unpublished parts of our lives? She's probably telling everyone here. You know how easy it would be for a _real_ demon to get their hands on that?"

Chuck didn't answer.

"She's dressed as _Castiel_. What if other angels found out? What if _Lucifer_ found out?" Dean continued.

"Dean," Sam coughed, noticing the girl get up and walk over.

"Did I hear someone say Castiel? Sorry, I didn't realise anyone else knew," the girl said.

Dean was surprised how much she actually looked like the angel, despite the gender swap. She had long, wavy black hair and blue eyes almost as bright as Cas's, just less intense.

"Yes," Dean said, clenching his jaw slightly. Sam recognised the tone he was using; it was the one he used whenever he was starting to lie. "We, uh, we're really big fans, and Chuck here was just telling us what happens next."

She nodded. "How far have you got?"

"They know it all," Chuck said nervously. The girl didn't pick up that he was lying. Chuck turned to Sam and Dean. "This is Grace. She's British. Uh, Grace, this is Sam and Dean."

"Yeah, like seventy per cent of the people here," the girl laughed.

"No, we're actually called Sam and Dean," Dean said. He hated having to go through all of this.

The girl, Grace, glanced at Sam, who nodded.

"Cool," she said finally.

Suddenly, the sound of a woman's scream echoed across the hotel. The brothers instinctively ran over to where they heard it coming from, and after a small hesitation, Grace ran after them, despite Chuck saying "No, guys, wait".

They ran up the stairs passed the hook man and a girl dressed as a demon, Sam in the lead, and they saw a maid in a blue uniform on the floor.

"Hey, are you okay?" Sam asked, helping her up.

"I think so," she said.

"What happened?" Dean asked, his tone of authority coming through.

"I saw a ghost,"

"A ghost?" Grace repeated from behind the brothers.

"Excuse me," a voice said from behind them. Sam, Dean and Grace turned around to see two pairs of fake Sam and Deans following them up to where the maid was.

"Could you tell us what it looked like?" one of the Sams asked.

"Leave this to the grown-ups, pal," the real Dean said.

"A woman," the maid said. "She was in an old-fashioned dress. Really old, like a school marm or something."

Sam frowned, listening carefully. Neither of the brothers were used to people speaking so freely of seeing a ghost; usually they tried to deny it to themselves.

"Did she say something to you?" another Sam asked her.

"Okay, gather close, everybody, for a terrifying tale of terror," the maid said, smiling. Dean heard Grace sigh in excitement behind him. He glanced at Sam. This was part of the convention; a 'ghost hunt' in roleplay.

The maid started to tell her 'tale', and the brothers stepped away.

"Ooh, the LARPing's started," Becky said, following them.

"The- what is that again?" Dean asked in irritation.

"Live Action Role Playing," Grace said after she'd broken away from the crowd of fans.

"A game," Becky confirmed. "The convention puts it on."

Becky handed Sam a piece of paper.

"Dad's journal. Dear Sam and Dean, this hotel is haunted. You must hunt down the ghost. Interview witnesses, discover clues, and find the bones," Sam read. "First team to do so wins a fifty dollar gift card to Sizzler. Love Dad."

"You guys are so gonna win," Becky singed.

"You guys don't look impressed," Grace said, frowning. "Not a fan of roleplaying?"

"No," Dean said shortly.

Downstairs, groups of fans wearing grey suits held out fake FBI badges to the hotel manager, who confirmed that the hotel was haunted, and told the history of the hotel; how it had been an orphanage.

"Well, that's just about all the community theatre I can take," Dean muttered to Sam.

"Yeah, this cannot get any weirder," Sam agreed.

Two fans dressed as the brothers crossed the reception.

"Dad said I may have to kill you one day," fake Dean said in a fake husky voice.

"Kill me, what does that mean?" replied fake Sam in an equally ridiculous voice.

"I don't know," answered fake Dean.

The real brothers had almost had enough. They turned to each other and said in unison "I need a drink".

Dean poured himself a shot, and after drinking it and grimacing slightly, he glanced at the girl next to him, who was supposed to be the ghost Leticia Gore. Except she was texting on her mobile phone; not particularly authentic.

"How you doing?" asked Dean.

"Busy," she replied bluntly.

"Well you sure look lovely tonight," Dean said. "Especially for a dead chick."

"Buddy, I have heard that line seventeen times tonight, okay? And all from dudes wearing MacGyver jackets," she sighed in frustration. She looked up from her phone and glanced at Dean. "But you seem different."

"How so?"

"Well, you don't seem scared of women,"

Dean smirked, but they were interrupted by a guy dressed as Sam, who had asked Chuck what happened after Dean was sent to Hell, said "For the last time, I'm not making this up, okay? She's upstairs, a real, live, dead ghost".

"Excuse me," Dean said to the actress.

"I'm sure it was just one of the actors," a fake Dean said to the guy.

"Who beat the crap out of me and then vanished?"

"You saw something?" Sam asked.

"Look, this isn't part of the game, jerk," he said to Sam. He turned to his friend. "Tim, I'm getting out of here, you should do the same."

"Alex, wait. I-" his friend, Tim, said as he followed Alex, who had a little blood dripping down his forehead, walked out. "Wait, come back!"

Dean and Sam stared after the two, and Sam turned to his brother. "What do you think?"

"I don't think that guy's a good enough actor to be acting," Dean answered.


	5. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three:**

Grace was stood amongst a group of Sam and Deans, talking to the actor playing the hotel managers. She looked quite out-of-place in her beige trench coat amongst all the suits.

"Why, yes, Agents Jagger and Richards," he said to them. "As manager of this fine establishment, I can assure you it is indeed haunted. The building was once an orphanage run by mean old Leticia Gore."

Grace broke away from the group when she saw the two guys called Sam and Dean and were also dressed as Sam and Dean who Chuck had told about the unpublished books. She thought they looked like they wanted to be alone, but surely any fan would want to have a friend to talk to about something they knew but not the rest of the world?

"Where did Miss Gore carve up the kids?" Dean asked.

"Look, I don't want you stomping all over the joint," the man, who was the real manager rather than an actor, said. Grace realised he wasn't part of the convention. "A lot of this place is off-limits to nerds."

Grace saw Dean slide a fifty dollar note across the desk. "_They must be really into it,_" Grace thought. "_Strange that they said they didn't like roleplaying_".

"The attic," the manager finally answered.

Sam and Dean opened a small door and climbed through, into a dark and dusty room where everything was covered in cobwebs. They pulled torches out from their jackets and looked around. Grace opened the small door slightly, and followed them through silently; surprised they hadn't noticed she was following them.

Sam pulled out a very authentic EMF device, which started to whine. Grace realised it was real; she'd never met anyone into a fandom so much that they'd get or make a real device from the books or films.

"EMF's going nuts," Sam said.

"Great. We've got a real ghost, and a bunch of dudes pretending to be us, poking at it," Dean replied. Grace frowned.

"No way this ends well,"

"You know what, serves them right,"

Sam looked at him. "Dean," he said, in a tone that told him to watch what he said.

"Well, I'm just saying,"

Grace searched around the attic on her own, playing over what Dean had said in her mind; "_We've got a real ghost, and a bunch of dudes pretending to be us, poking at it_".

"_What the hell was that meant to mean?_" she thought.

In the corner of her eyes, she saw a boy curled up in the corner of the room with his hands over his head.

"Uh, guys," she called to Sam and Dean, who ran over.

"What are you-" Dean started, but stopped when he saw the boy.

"My mummy loves me," the boy said.

"I'm sure she does," Sam said.

"My mummy loves me this much," said the boy, and he removed his hands to reveal a large wound on the right side of his head; he'd been scalped.

"That's not make-up," Grace said, feeling sick to the stomach.

The boy vanished and Dean turned to Grace. "Did you follow us?"

Grace nodded, unable to find her voice; the kid _disappeared_.

"You must be _really_ into this, kid," Dean said.

"I'm not a kid," Grace hissed, snapping out of her shock. "And I wasn't the one paying the hotel manager to get more information than the other fans."

Neither of them replied.

Grace turned away and walked back towards the door.

"Where're you going?" Sam called.

"Downstairs. There's nothing else up here, and I doubt that kid's coming back," Grace answered and waited for them when she climbed back into the main corridor.

"I'm gonna do some research, I'll find out if any of this Leticia Gore is true." Sam said when Grace was out of earshot. "Look after the girl, she's probably in shock, she just saw a real ghost."

"Why do I have to babysit?" Dean protested.

"'Cause you're no good at research. You shoot first, ask questions later,"

Dean sighed and they climbed down to where Grace was stood.

"I'm gonna get a drink," Dean said. He turned to Grace. "You coming?"

Grace nodded, surprised. She'd never been asked out for a drink before by someone who wasn't a total creep.

"So, was that a _real_ ghost?" Grace asked Dean when he came back with a tumbler of whiskey and a Yellow-Eyes Cooler. "Oh, I don't drink alcohol."

"Yeah it was, and why not? Religious?"

"No, I just don't like the stuff,"

"So, how did you get into the Supernatural series?" Dean asked. He had been curious since he realised there was a series of books based on his and his brother's lives, but the only fan he knew was Becky, and she intimidated him.

"Same way you get into any book series," Grace said. "I picked a book up from the bookshelf in my local bookstore, and I bought it."

"What do you think of the series?"

"It's pretty corny, but I think that's just the writing style. But I was drawn to the characters from the start; they're so complex it's almost like they're real people, you know? Like, the relationship between Dean and his father is really complicated; he follows his father's orders because he knows John's right; he has to follow his orders otherwise Sam would be in danger,"

Dean didn't answer; he just listened to Grace talking about his own life with an opinion different to anyone else's.

"I mean, if Dean did something different to what John said," Grace continued. "Sam would probably get hurt; if you were out hunting for real, there is no second time; the choices they make are always life or death situations. Dean didn't have the chance to disobey his father."

"I've never heard it put like that," Dean said finally.

Grace shrugged. "I'm studying Creative Writing; it's part of my degree to pick out themes in books and analysing it."

Sam walked over to them and said "All right. So that was a guy with the County Historical Society,"

"And?" Dean asked.

"Not only did Leticia Gore butcher four boys, but one of them was her own son,"  
"Her own son?" Dean repeated.

"Yeah," answered Sam.

"That's horrible!" Grace gasped, making Sam jump. He had forgotten she was there.

"Yeah," Sam said again. "According to the police at the time, she scalped the kid,"

"Like the boy we saw in the attic," Grace said sadly.

"That's it, I'm gonna deep-fry this bitch," Dean said darkly.

"Extra crispy," Grace added.

"Dude say where she was buried?" Dean asked.

Sam shook his head. "Doesn't know."

Grace heard deep voices from behind her, and she turned to see two of the role players with an old looking map. She recognised them as Damian and Barnes.

"Check it out," Barnes said. "There's the orphanage, here's the carriage house, and right there, the cemetery."

"You think that's where Leticia's planted?" Damian asked.

"It's worth a shot," Barnes answered. Grace stood up and walked over to their table, and Sam and Dean followed her. Sam took the map off their table and looked at it.

"Hey, hey!" Barnes protested.

"Hey, you mind?" Damian said.

"It's real," Sam said to Dean. "A century old and he's right, there is a cemetery."

"Where'd you get that?" Dean asked them.

"It's called a game, pal," Damian answered. "It ain't called charity."

"All right," Dean said, getting more irritated by the second. "Give me the map, Chuckles."

"You're the Chuckles, Chuckles," Damian replied lamely. Grace rolled her eyes.

"Besides, Dean don't listen to nobody," he continued, pulling his leather jacket aside to reveal a plastic gun in his waist belt.

"Dean, cool it," Barnes said in character.

Dean looked like he had just given up on the human race, and pulled out his own, very real gun. Grace gasped and Sam gave him a look.

"What?" Dean asked, clearly pissed off. "They're freaking annoying."

"Okay, guys, we all want to find the bones, right?" Sam said to the two still holding the map. "We just thought it would go faster if we all worked together."

Barnes coughed. "But we get the Sizzler gift card."

Dean smiled with his mouth but not his eyes. "Fine," he said.

"And we get to be Sam and Dean," Damian said.

Looking like he was ready to punch the two fans, Dean agreed.

"All right guys, less testosterone, please," Grace said, standing between the pairs of Sam and Deans. "Let's have a look at this damn map."

Several minutes later they were outside in the cemetery, with their torches turned on.

"Hey, Rufus, Bobby, Jo, would you hurry it up?" Damian called.

"Are you alright?" Sam asked Dean in a hushed tone.

"Trying to be," Dean said, pulling his duffle bag that held spades, salt and fuel over his shoulder.

"So where were we?" Barnes asked.

"Dr. Ellicot had just zapped your brain," Damian answered.

"Right. Got it," Barnes said, and then coughed and put on a deep voice. "Why are we even hear, Dean? You just following Dad's footsteps like a good little soldier? Are you that desperate for approval?"

Sam and Dean gave each other a look.

"This isn't you talking, Sam," Damian said in a fake deep voice.

"That's the difference between you and me," said Barnes. "I got a mind of my own. I'm not pathetic."

Sam frowned. He didn't think he sounded like that at all, even when he was possessed.

"So, what are you gonna do, Sam, you gonna kill me?"

"Man, I am so sick of you telling me what to do,"

"Right, you know what? That's it," real Dean said, silencing the two role players.

"What's wrong, Bobby?" Damian asked, still in character.

"I'm not Bobby, okay?" shouted Dean. "You're not Sam, and you're not Dean. What is wrong with you?"

"They're only role playing, Dean," Grace said soothingly.

"Why in the hell," continued Dean, ignoring Grace. "would you choose to be these guys?"

"Because we're fans, like you," Barnes said in his normal voice.

"No. I am not a fan, okay?" said Dean and glanced at Sam. "Not fans. In fact, I think that the Dean and Sam's story sucks. It is not fun, it's not entertaining. It is a river of crap that would send most people howling to the nuthouse. So you listen to me, their pain is not for your amusement. I mean, do you think that they enjoy being treated like circus freaks?"

"Uh, I don't think they care," Damian said. "Because they're _fictional characters_."

"Oh, they care," Dean said. "Believe me. They care a lot."

Dean walked off again of them, and Sam explained to Damian and Barnes that Dean took the story really seriously.

Grace frowned, and followed Dean.

"Are you okay?" she asked him when she caught up. She still had to walk quite quickly because his stride was much longer. Dean looked over six foot tall and Grace was only five foot two.

"Yeah," Dean said. "Just, uh, I take the story pretty seriously so…"

Grace nodded and didn't push any further. Some things were personal and hard to explain, and she understood that.

Sam, Damian and Barnes caught up, and they continued walking in the cemetery, searching for Leticia Gore's headstone.

"Found the four boys," Dean said, pointing his torch at four small headstones.

"Gotcha," Grace said, spotting the school marm's grave. Sam stepped over and nodded.

"And here's Leticia Gore," he called.

Dean walked over, and dropped his bag onto the hard ground. Grace spotted the other two role players Damian and Barnes walking away searching the grounds.

"Uh, guys?" she called.

"What are you doing?" Dean asked them.

"Looking for bones, genius," Damian said. "They gotta be around here somewhere."

"Okay, generally, bones are in the ground," Dean said, and pulled out a spade from his bag.

"Yeah, I know that," Damian said in his deep voice. "I'm just- wait, hold on, are you guys serious?"

"Deadly," Dean said.

"Um, guys, I don't think the hotel would make us actually dig up the ground," Grace said.

"You saw that it was a real ghost, Grace," Sam said quietly. Grace nodded slightly.

"We're not really digging up graves, you guys," Barnes said. "We're just playing the game."

Dean laughed. "Trust us. You wanna win the game, right?"

Barnes nodded slightly, and Dean and Sam started digging up Leticia Gore's grave.

Grace heard a clunk and Dean smashed down his spade into the coffin. The wind grew stronger as if on cue, and she saw Barnes pull his jacket tighter around him.

Dean hoisted open the coffin and Damian gagged.

"That's, uh, not a plastic skeleton," he said. "That's a _skeleton_ skeleton."

"You just dug up a real grave," Barnes said.

"Yeah," Dean said easily.

"You guys are nuts," Damian said, and looked at Grace like she carried a disease.

"I thought you said you wanted to be hunters," said Sam.

"Hunters aren't real, man. This isn't real. My God,"

"You guys have seriously lost your grip on this," Barnes added, starting to panic. He then froze.

"What?" Sam asked, and Grace whirled around to see the real ghost of Leticia Gore stood behind him. She screamed.

"Naughty, naughty, naughty," the ghost hissed.

Damian and Barnes ran off, but Dean kept his cool and grabbed a metal can of salt, and started to pour it onto the real skeleton. Her knowledge of the books kicking in, she grabbed a bottle of car petrol from Dean's bag and started emptying it into the coffin, covering the bones as well as she could.

Dean pulled out his lighter, set it alight, and dropped it inside the coffin, watching it burst into flames.

The ghost screamed, and set alight before disappearing into thin air.

"Real enough for you?" Dean asked Damian and Barnes, who were panting heavily.

Ten minutes later, the group were sat at the bar of the hotel.

"That was-" Barnes started.

"Awful, right," Dean finished. He smacked a fifty dollar note onto the counter. "Round's on us, guys, see you around."

"Hey, how did you know how to do all that?" Damian asked.

"I read the books," Grace said, shrugging, and then turned to Dean. "You don't look like the reading type."

"We, um, we read the books too," Sam said, and Dean shrugged and nodded.

"Appearances can deceive," he said to Grace.

The two started to walk away, and Dean spotted Chuck. "Hey, Chuck!"

Chuck turned to Dean, looking a little intimidated.

"Good luck with the Supernatural books," Dean said. "And screw you very much."

Grace sighed and sat down at the bar with Damian and Barnes. It was unlikely she was ever going to see Sam and Dean again; they didn't seem the type to hang around.

She was about to order a 'Ghost Soda', but she heard a woman screaming. She thought it could have been part of the game, but the staff looked as confused as she felt.

She raced upstairs, bumping into Sam and Dean, and she glanced around them. It was the ghost of the boy again; the one who's head had been scalped by his own mother.

"Why'd you do that?" he asked. "Why did you send my mummy away?"

"Uh, maybe because of the high-and-tight she gave you? How about some thanks?" Dean said and Sam coughed. "What? I'm just saying a little gratitude might be nice once in a while."

"Wait, guys," Grace said, reading into the expression on the boy's face; he looked more afraid than before; he looked more afraid now his mother was gone.

"_But if it wasn't his mother who had hurt him, who was it?_" she thought.

"My mummy didn't do this to me," the boy said.

Sam frowned. "What?"

"Then who did?" Graces asked.

The boy didn't answer, but disappeared instead.


	6. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four:**

Grace heard a scream, and recognised the accent to be that off the German guy dressed as the hook man.

They ran over, and saw the dead body of the German man, who had been scalped exactly like the boy had. Grace would have screamed but she appeared to have lost her voice.

"We need to get everyone in one room, sealed with salt," Dean said in his authoritive tone.

"Can't we get them out?" Grace asked, finally able to speak again.

"All the exits are locked," Sam answered, and he ran off down the hallway to the main meeting room, where Chuck was answering questions about the books.

"Go with him," Dean said to Grace.

"No, I'm helping,"  
"You'll get hurt,"

"So would anyone else; what makes my life more important than anyone else's? I want to help," she said firmly. "And I'm not entirely useless, I know ghosts can't handle salt or iron."

Dean sighed, and nodded. "Fine. Stay close but don't get in the way."

They headed downstairs, and persuaded all the staff and everyone else to go into the one room with the audience of fans.

Grace assumed they had salted the room around the doors and windows, because when Sam and Dean got back they were dusting white powder off their knees.

"What's the plan?" she asked them when they came outside.

"We get the Leticia actress to scold three blood-thirsty kid ghosts," Dean said as Sam brought the actress into the reception area.

"You want me to do what?" she asked.

"You're an actress. We just want you to act," Dean said.

"I work at Hooters in Toledo," she replied. Grace didn't know what that meant but she assumed it wasn't a big job. "You can forget it."

"You'll be safe," Sam said. "We promise. This is really important."

"Please," Grace added, unable to think of anything more persuasive to say.

Damian tapped Dean on his shoulder, and he turned to see him and Barnes. "We want to help," Damian said.

Dean sighed, turned to Sam, told him to give the actress "they puppy-dog eyes", turned back to the role playing guys, and said "guys, no".

"Why not?" they protested.

"This isn't make-believe," Grace said gravely. "It's not a game. It's real."  
"Look we know, we're not nuts," Damian said. "We're freakin' terrified."

"Yeah," said Barnes. "But if all these people are seriously in trouble, we gotta do something."

"Why?" Dean asked.

"Because-" Damian started.

"Because that's what Dean and Sam would do," Grace answered for them. She knew exactly what they meant.

Dean groaned. "Fine,"

"Guys will you be able to go with Sam to dig up the bones of the three boys and burn them? Dean, we could go into the smaller room with the actress and oversee it all in case anything goes wrong," Grace said.

Damian and Barnes nodded eagerly, and after a slight hesitation Sam and Dean nodded too.

Sam had managed to persuade the actress to help, and she stepped into one of the smaller rooms.

"I don't wanna do this," she said quietly.

"I'm right here, sweetheart," Dean said from behind a wall. "I got your back. Trust me, this is gonna work."

"Boys," she said, trying to keep a stern tone but her voice wobbled slightly. "Boys, come here this instant. You come when I call you. Do you understand me?"

"Miss Gore?" another voice said. Grace froze; it was the voice of a young boy. Grace heard the actress catch her breath.

"You boys have been very naughty," the actress continued. "Now you open the doors. Open the doors right now. You've been very naughty. You hear me? Naughty, naughty, naughty."

Suddenly, a phone ringtone went off.

"_Crap_," Grace thought.

Grace assumed the actress must've reached into her pocket and turned her phone off, because the music stopped all of a sudden. She glanced at Dean, and he nodded.

He stepped around the corner slowly, and Grace followed.

"Run," he said calmly, and she took the actress and they walked briskly out of the room.

Grace saw Sam pushing at one of the main entrance doors but it wouldn't budge.

"Where're Damian and Barnes?" she asked, running over to help.

"They got through," Sam said in a grunt. "They should've found the graves by now. Where's Dean?"

"Fighting the three ghosts," Grace said, and she and Sam ran back.

"Stay there!" Sam shouted.

"No!" Grace yelled back as she followed him inside.

Dean had lost his iron stick, and was backed up against the wall.

Sam grabbed the iron stick and swung it at the ghost, who then disappeared.

"Where are the others?" Grace asked Dean, scanning the room with her eyes.

"Their bones must've been burned," he replied. "But that last one's gonna come back unless the other guys get its bones salted and burned too."

"The other guys happen to have names," Grace reminded him, a little irritated.

"Duck!" Sam yelled at Grace, who fell to the ground obediently as Sam swung the iron poker at the ghost behind her. It burst into flames before the iron hit it.

Grace pulled herself up, and readjusted her blue tie and trench coat collar. She glanced out of the window and saw it was daylight again. She checked her watch: five o'clock in the morning and she hadn't slept yet.

"_Great, I'm already out of my sleeping pattern_," she thought.

They walked out and met up with Damian and Barnes, who were stood outside with mud on their faces and clothes. They looked more like how she imagined Dean and Sam now.

"We really gotta hand it to you, guys," Dean said. "You really saved our asses back there. Thanks."

"Damian and Barnes," Grace said, introducing them to Dean after realising he'd forgotten their names already.

"What's yours?" Barnes asked.

"Dean. The real Dean,"

After a moment's pause, Damian and Barnes burst out laughing.

"Yeah, me too," Damian snorted.

"Get the hell outta here, _Dean_," Barnes giggled.

Dean hesitated and then smiled, as if it had been an intentional joke, but Grace didn't smile. She had her head cocked to one side, and she looked at Dean and Sam.

"Well, anyway, thanks," Dean said to them. "Really."

"You're wrong you know," Damian said seriously. "About Supernatural. No offense, but I'm not sure you get what the story's about,"

"Is that so?"

"All right, look," he said and pointed at Barnes. "In real life, he sells stereo equipment. I fix copiers; our lives suck. But to be Sam and Dean, to wake up every morning and save the world, to have a brother, who would _die_ for you, well, who wouldn't want that?"

"_The real Sam and Dean wouldn't_," Grace thought.

"Maybe you gotta point," Dean said. "You know you two don't make a bad team yourselves. How do you know each other anyway?"

"Oh, well, we met online," Barnes said, smiling. "Supernatural chat room."

"Oh," Dean said, trying to look more impressed than he felt. "Well it must be nice to get out of your parents' basement, make some friends."

"We're more than friends," Damian said, and linked his hand into Barnes'. "We're partners."

"Oh," was all Dean said. Grace smiled.

"You guys are really cute together," she said honestly as Barnes rested his head on Damian's shoulder.

"Thanks," Damian said.

"Well," Dean said. "Howdy, partners."

"Howdy," Barnes smiled.

Dean walked over to the Impala and saw Sam stood with Becky and Chuck.

Sam saw Dean and started to walk up to the car, when Becky ran towards him.

"Sam, wait, one more thing!" she called. "In chapter thirty three of Supernatural, 'Time Is On My Side', there was that girl Bella? She was British, a cat burglar."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Sam replied.

"She stole the Colt from you. Then she _said_ she gave it to Lilith, remember?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, you know she lied, right? She never really gave it to Lilith."

Sam glanced at Chuck and then back to Becky. "Wait, what?"

"Didn't you read the book?" she laughed. "There is this one scene, where Bella gives the Colt to a demon, Crowley, Lilith's right-hand man, and I think her lover too."

"Crowley?" Sam repeated, and looked at Chuck. "Didn't it occur to you to tell us this?"

"Sorry, I didn't remember," Chuck apologised. "I'm not as big as a fan as she is."

"Becky, tell me everything," Sam said.

"You okay?" Sam asked Dean as he approached the Impala.

"Yeah, I'm good,"

"Dean!" Grace called, and ran up to the brothers.

"Grace?" Dean said, turning around to the girl version of Castiel. She had a little dirt around the bottom of her trench coat, and her hair was dishevelled, but her blue eyes were brighter than when he'd seen her the first time, and she was grinning.

"I'm coming with you and Sam,"

"What? No you're not; it's dangerous. Why would you want to do that?"

"Because you're not fans of the books. I knew you didn't look the type to read,"

"What makes you say we're not fans?"

"Because when you're supposedly in-character, you react exactly how Dean would; he hates his life. You and Sam found and burned those bones like you've been doing it all of your life, and no matter how dedicated you are to a book series, no one would be able to fight three ghosts exactly how Dean would,"

"Uh-"

"You told Damian and Barnes you were the real Dean and Sam. Are you?"

After a long hesitation, Dean nodded squarely. "Yeah, we are,"

Grace leant against the impala, taking it all in.

"But just because we're the real Sam and Dean doesn't mean you're coming with us, Grace," Sam said.

"It's not an easy job," Dean added. "It's not fun either, or as glamorous as it might sound in the books."

"I'm not stupid. I know what the job would bring. But Sam and Dean- you guys," Grace said, correcting herself. "You don't hunt things for kicks; you don't get a buzz from slaying a monster. You hunt because you have to; you save people. I don't see what I'm doing wrong if I want to do that, too."

Dean sighed and glanced at Sam, who didn't say anything either. "Fine. But as soon as it starts getting too dangerous you're going back home. And you follow our orders."

Grace nodded.

"Well, you're not gonna believe it but I've got a lead on the Colt," Sam said.

"Crowley," said Grace.

"Does everyone know this except us?" Sam asked her.

She smiled. "If you'd read the books you'd know,"

"Wait what? Crowley has the Colt?" Dean asked.

"Long story, Grace will probably tell you on the way,"

Dean looked at Grace who nodded and climbed into the backseat of the impala. "Then what are we waiting for?" she sung.

They arrived at Grace's hotel half an hour later, and Grace ran inside, packed her bags, checked out of the hotel and got back into the Impala in the space of an hour.

"Okay," she said. "Let's go."

Dean drove the three of them to a small motel nearby, and they booked a single room. The girl at the desk gave Grace a weird look.

"We're siblings," Grace lied smoothly, raising her eyebrow at the girl. "Three singles, please."

The girl nodded and gave Dean the room key.

"You're an excellent liar," Dean said to Grace on the stairs up to the motel room.

She shrugged in response.

Dean opened the room door and stepped inside. It wasn't too shabby, though Grace observed how much nicer her hotel room was. Although that was three times the price and she could hardly have two of her favourite characters sleeping on the floor.

"Wait," Grace asked, her voice wobbling. "If you guys are real, does- does that mean Castiel is real, too?"

Dean smiled and Sam nodded.

"Castiel, this is a matter of life and death, you have to come down here or Lucifer will come down and kill us," Dean lied with his eyes closed. There was humour in his tone, but he believed his friend, Cas, would answer his prayer all the same.

"Dean," a husky voice said from the other end of the room.

Grace couldn't move, but after a few seconds hesitation she turned around on her heel and saw Castiel almost exactly how she had imagined him. Scruffy dark hair, with intense blue eyes, and clothes very similar to those she was wearing. She gasped slightly.

Castiel looked at her, and cocked his head to the side. It wasn't like how most people saw her; just a glance and would never think to look twice; Cas really _saw_ her.

"Why is this human girl dressed like me?" he asked Dean, not breaking eye contact with Grace.

"Cas," Dean said, moving over to Grace and resting his hands on her shoulders. "This is Grace. She's probably your number one fan."

"Don't make me sound like Becky," Grace hissed to Dean, who laughed. She turned to the angel. "H-hi, Castiel."

"How do you know who I am?" he asked her, frowning.

"Chuck," said Sam. "She's the only one who knows, though,"

Cas nodded. "Nice to meet you, Grace," he said awkwardly. "This may hurt."

"What?" Grace stuttered as Castiel moved towards her in one swift moment, and placed his hands firmly on her chest, just below her collarbones. She felt a searing pain in her chest, and groaned under her breath.

"Enochian, uh, angel runes," Sam explained. "It stops angels from finding you. You probably read enough to know, but there are hell of a lot of angels who aren't on our side."

Grace nodded and turned to Cas. "But what if you need to find me?"

"Cas, edit my third phone number to have Grace's name," Dean said, and gave Grace an old mobile phone.

The angel pulled a black flip-up phone out of his pocket, and stared at it in confusion. Grace laughed and stepped towards him.

"Here," she said, smiling kindly. She took the phone off him, and showed him how to get into contacts, and edit the name of 'Dean 3' to 'Grace'. "Done."  
"Thank you," Cas nodded awkwardly.

"Oh, that reminds me," Grace said, and pulled out her own phone.

"You need to get rid of that," Dean said.

Grace nodded. "I know, but I'm gonna text my mum and tell her I'm staying with friends for a while or something."

"Good idea," Sam said, giving her a small smile.

"Oh, Cas," Dean said, remembering the second reason why he called for him. "We think we know where the Colt is."

"Knowing where it is is one thing, Dean," Sam said. "But we have no idea how to get it."

"I have an idea?" Grace suggested, and all eyes fell onto her, which she thought was going to be less awkward than it was in reality.

The next day, at five o'clock in the afternoon, Grace was sat cross legged on her bed, with Dean and Sam around the table packing guns and salt into their duffle bags.

"Jo will be here in five minutes," Dean said to Grace, who nodded in response.

Twenty minutes later Jo arrived wearing a backless black dress and high heeled shoes.

"Hey, Jo," Dean said, greeting the girl.

"Hi, where's your girl?" she said, and then spotted Grace on the bed. "Oh, hey,"

"Hi," Grace said nervously.

"Is that what you're wearing?" Jo asked her, looking her up and down at the jeans and t-shirt she was wearing.

"Uh, yeah?" Grace said shyly.

Jo shook her head. "Have you got a dress?"

"Yeah, but I don't have any heels,"

Jo smiled. "Doesn't matter, the demons won't be looking at your feet. Go get dressed," she said.

Grace nodded, picked the charcoal grey dress out from her suitcase and walked quickly into the bathroom. She pulled it on, and Jo walked in unexpectedly.

"Okay, hair and make-up," she said.

"What? I don't usually wear make-up," Grace said, shaking her head.

"You don't usually sneak into cross-road demon's house to steal a gun that's centuries of years old so you have the chance to kill the devil," Jo pointed out.

She sighed. "But please don't put on too much."

Grace looked in the bathroom mirror when Jo was done.

"Oh my gosh," Grace gasped, taking it in. Jo had pulled Grace's long hair into a plait down her back, and used eyeliner and mascara to bring out her eyes. Grace was glad she hadn't put any foundation on her skin, as she didn't like feeling like she was wearing a mask.

"You're pretty without make-up, but pretty isn't quite what we need," Jo said, smiling at her work.

"You girls done, already?" Dean called from the other room.

They walked out, with Grace in the lead, and the brothers both stared open-mouthed at her.

"What?" Grace asked them. She had never had this type of attention before.

Dean shook his head, almost in disbelief. "You look good," he said. "Nice job, Jo."

Dean's mobile phone rung. "It's Cas," he said, and answered the call.

"_Got him_," Cas' voice said through Dean's phone. "_The demon Crowley is making a deal. Even as we speak, it's going down._"

Grace laughed quietly at Cas' words. He spoke just as awkwardly as how she'd imagined when reading the manuscripts in Missouri.

"Going down?" Dean repeated. "Right. Okay, Huggy Bear. Just don't lose him."

"_I won't lose him_,"

Dean put his phone back into his pocket, and repeated "it's going down" to himself. He chuckled. His friend hadn't quite grasped colloquial language yet. His phone rang again.

"_I followed him. It's not far, but it's layered in Enochian warding magic. I can't get in_."

"That's okay," Dean said. "You did great. We'll take it from here."

He put the phone into his trousers pocket, and grabbed the Impala keys off the coffee table. "Let's go," he said to the others.


	7. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five:**

They arrived at Crowley's house at eight o'clock that evening. It was already dark, and the lights inside the swimming pool at the front of the large, expensive house, were turned on. Jo and Grace stepped out of the Impala and Dean and Sam drove on further to park it; having the easily recognisable car parked outside was going to be a giveaway, and Dean refused to be parted from 'his baby'.

Jo pressed on a button by the gate, and it buzzed for a moment.

"_Hello?_" a voice asked through the speaker.

"Hello? My car broke down, we need some help," Jo said.

"Can we come in and use your phone?" Grace added, making her voice sound more needy than normal.

"I'll be down in a minute," the voice said. Grace smiled to herself, and Jo gave her a wink.

The black, steel gates opened with a squeak, and the two girls walked inside, meeting two men in suits. Grace assumed they were also demons.

"Evening, pretty ladies," one of them said to Grace and Jo. "Get yourself on in here."

"We just need to make a call," Jo said.

The man shook his head. "You don't need to call anyone, baby. We're the only help you're ever gonna need."

"You know what," Grace said, and she didn't have to pretend to sound afraid. "I think we should just wait by our car."

"We said," the man started, his voice much crueller than before. He placed a hand on Jo's shoulder. "Get your asses in here."

Jo swung her other arm around and smacked it into the man's shoulder. Grace stepped back behind the wall to keep out of the way. She wished she was a good fighter, but even if she was it was in her nature to avoid physical conflict.

Sam and Dean ran up through the gates, killing the two demons with the knife, and Grace followed them into Crowley's property.

"Nice work, girls," Dean said.

"Thanks," Grace and Jo said in unison, although Jo's voice was a little breathless. She took a pair of wire clippers from Dean's bag. "Okay, shall we?"

They quickly found the electric box on the outside of the house, and after Sam picked at its lock, it opened and Jo cut the wires inside. The lights inside the big house turned off.

They ran around to the front door, and Sam picked the lock on that, too.

"You're really good at that," Grace whispered.

"Thanks,"

They stepped inside, and Dean took out a can of red spray-paint from his bag. He was about to paint a devil's trap onto the wooden floorboards when Grace hissed "wait!" and shook her head.

"On the underside of the rug," she whispered, and Dean nodded.

After they painted the devil's trap, they placed the rug back where it was, and Grace heard footsteps that didn't belong to her, Dean, Sam or even Jo, who had gone back to the Impala on her mother's orders.

A middle-aged man, wearing a black suit and shirt and blue tie walked around the corner.

"It's Crowley, right?" Sam said to the man.

"So," the man said. "The Hardy Boys finally found me. Who's your friend?"

After none of us replied, Crowley stepped forward, but stopped before he stepped onto the rug. Grace's eyes followed where his were looking, and she realised they'd left a fold in the rug.

"_Crap_," she thought.

Crowley knelt down and pulled over the rug, revealing the devil's trap underneath.

"Do you have any idea how much this rug costs?" Crowley asked, sounding more irritated than angry.

Three demons in suits came up behind them, and grabbed them, pulling their arms behind their backs. Sam and Dean grunted, trying to pull themselves out of the demons grip, and Grace squirmed around, trying to wriggle out of the demon's grip.

Crowley pulled an old looking gun out of his jacket pocket. The Colt. "This is it, right?" he said. Sam and Dean frowned. "This is what it's all about."

He pointed it at Dean, then Sam, and then Grace. She closed her eyes tightly, waiting for the sound of the trigger, but when she heard the bang, she didn't feel any pain. She opened her eyes and felt the demon's grip around her eyes loosen, and she turned around to see him fall to the floor, dead.

She glanced at Sam and Dean, to see if that had been part of the plan, but they looked as confused as she was.

"We need to talk," Crowley said. "Privately."

They followed Crowley into another room, which featured a large, very expensive looking desk.

'What the hell is this?" Dean asked suspiciously.

"Do you know how deep I could have buried this thing?" Crowley said, waving around the Colt slightly. The demon waved his hand and the door shut behind them with a heavy thud. "There's no reason you or anyone should know this even exists at all. Except that I told you."

"You told us?" Sam asked.

"Rumours, innuendo, sent out on the grapevine," Crowley said, confirming his answer.

"Why?" Grace asked.

Crowley looked at her for a second, as if wondering whether to answer her.

"Why tell us anything?" Sam asked, repeating Grace's question to make sure it was answered.

Crowley pointed to Colt at Dean. "I want you to take this thing to Lucifer and empty it into his face."

Grace's eyes widened. "_What?_" the thought.

"Uh-huh," Dean muttered.

"And why," he continued to Crowley. "Why exactly would you want the devil dead?"

"Survival," Grace said. It was all Crowley, and every other demon out there, wanted.

Crowley nodded. "This girl's smarter than the two of you put together. But I forgot you two, at best, are functional morons."

"Hey, you're functioning morons," Dean said. Grace looked at him with a 'what the hell?' face.

"Smooth," she muttered.

"Lucifer isn't a demon, remember," Crowley continued. "He's an angel; an angel famous for his hatred of humankind. To him you're just filthy bags of pus. That's the way he feels about you, what can he think about us?"

"But he created you," Sam pointed out.

"To him, we're just servants. Cannon fodder," said Crowley. "If Lucifer managers to exterminate humankind, we're next. So help me, huh? Let's all go back to simpler, better times. Back to when we could all follow our natures. I'm in sales, damn it! So what do you say? What if I give you this thing, and you go kill the devil?"

Crowley handed the Colt out to Sam, who paused before taking it. "Okay,"

"Great," grinned Crowley.

"You wouldn't happen to know where the devil is, by chance, would you?" Sam asked.

"Thursday," Crowley said after thinking for a moment. "Birdies tell me he has an appointment in Carthage, Missouri."

"Great, thanks," Sam said, nodding. He then pointed the Colt at the demon before him, and pulled the trigger.

_Click._ Nothing. Sam clenched his jaw, Dean's eyes followed the Colt go back into Sam's pocket, and Grace watched Crowley like he was a bomb about to explode.

"Oh, yeah, right, you probably need some more ammunition," Crowley said, as if Sam hadn't just tried to kill him. He walked around his desk and pulled out one of the drawers.

"Excuse me for asking, but aren't you signing your own death warrant?" Dean pointed out as if he was waiting for the catch; he was a cross-roads demon after all. "I mean, what happens to you if we go up against the devil and lose?"

"Number one, he's gonna wipe us out anyway. Two, after you leave here I go on an extended vacation to all points of nowhere, and three, how about you don't miss, okay? Morons!" Crowley shouted, and threw a leather wallet of ammunition made for the Colt to Dean, who caught it and opened it up.

When Grace, Sam and Dean looked up again, Crowley had vanished.

Grace climbed out of the Impala to what looked like a junk yard. Dean and Sam climbed out and started walking through the maze of old cars, and Grace followed them.

"Where are we?" she asked.

"Bobby's," Dean said.

"Oh, really?" She didn't recognise it from the description in the books.

But inside was a man in a wheelchair, with a checked shirt and frayed baseball cap, and she instantly recognised him to be Bobby, with his moustache and greying beard.

"You must be, Grace, Sam and Dean mentioned you," he said, giving her a kind smile.

"Hi, Bobby," she said, nodding, and shook his hand.

Castiel, Jo and Ellen were sat in another room, with over a dozen empty shot glasses scattered on the wooden table.

"All right, big boy," Ellen said to Cas after taking a shot of her own. Jo was sipping from a bottle of beer.

Cas had a row of filled shot glasses in front of him, and drunk them all without a break in between.

He nodded. "I think I'm starting to feel something,"

Grace's lips were parted slightly with her eyes slightly wider than normal. He'd just taken about twelve shots and was only "starting to feel something".

Jo noticed she was stood there, and called her over.

"How many do you think you can manage?" she challenged.

"Well, I'm as lightweight as I look, we'll leave it at that," Grace answered, pulling up a chair and sat down between Cas and Jo.

"Come on, we'll see how far you get before passing out," Jo laughed, and Ellen poured out shots for Grace. "I bet you can take four."

"Six," added Ellen. "I think she's stronger than she looks."

"Castiel?" Jo asked the angel. He looked at Grace intently for a few moments, gazing into her equally blue eyes, before saying "all of them. All ten".

Jo and Ellen both raised their left eyebrow at the same time. Cas nodded. Sam and Dean walked over, and realised Grace was joining in.

Not wanting to let her favourite character down, she took a deep breath, and poured the contents of the first shot glass into her mouth. It burned her throat, but she did the same for the second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh, and started to cough and splutter on the eighth, but continued to drink.

"_It's just mind over matter, Grace, come on_," she thought as she urged herself to swallow down the tenth.

She put down the final shot glass with more force than she meant to, and exhaled heavily.

"I. Am never. Doing that again," she said in-between breaths. Jo and Ellen laughed, but Castiel didn't look impressed; only like his expectations had been matched; no more or no less than what he thought would happen. He caught her eyes and she looked away quickly.

"Grace, you son of a bitch," Dean laughed. "I didn't think you had it in you."

Grace grinned in response.

Ellen poured more shots out for both herself and Castiel, and Jo stood up.

"I'm gonna get another beer," she said. "You want one, Grace?"

She shook her head. "I don't usually drink, but a glass of water would be great."

Dean walked over to where Jo was bending over to the fridge to pull out another bottle of bear from the bottom shelf.

She turned around and jumped slightly when she realised Dean was stood right in-front of her.

"Hey," Dean said to her, and Grace recognised the same flirty smile he had on from when he was talking to the actress at the bar at the convention the day before.

"Hey," Jo said, returning the smile.

Grace grinned, she'd only just met Jo, but she and Dean looked like they'd make quite the couple, and she definitely wanted them to get together back when she thought they were fictional characters.

Grace turned away, realising she was staring, but realised Cas was watching them, too.

"Cas," she whispered. "They're gonna notice."

He averted his gaze to her, and frowned.

"People find it uncomfortable when others stare at them," she explained.

"Do you feel uncomfortable?" he asked.

"No, but I think most would,"

"Why don't you if most do?"

She shrugged in response. She doubted he wanted to know that it was because she felt like she knew him because she'd read about him in the manuscript of an unpublished book she'd almost begged to get hold of.

"Everybody, get in here!" she heard Bobby calling from next door. "It's time for the line-up. Usual suspects in the corner."

"Oh, come on, Bobby," Ellen started. "Nobody wants their picture taken."

"Hear, hear," Sam agreed, but he stood into position.

Grace stood in the opposite corner of the room, smiling.

"Shut up, you're drinking my beer," Bobby said, fiddling with the camera's timer. He wheeled himself back, so he was in the middle of the group. "Anyway, I'm gonna need something to remember your sorry asses by."

Ellen laughed. "It's always good to have an optimist around,"

Sam noticed Grace in the corner. "Grace! Come on!"

"What?" she stuttered. "I wouldn't fit in; I've only just met you all."

"Yeah, well, you made yourself part of the group by climbing into my car," Dean laughed, draping his arms over Ellen and Jo's shoulders. "Cas, go drag her ass here."

Cas stepped forward and grabbed hold of her arm and pulled her next to him. She tried to smile without looking or feeling too awkward.

"Bobby's right. Tomorrow we hunt the devil," Cas said seriously, not feeling the same cheerful vibe as the others. "This is our last night on earth."

Grace's face fell, as did the smiles on everyone else's faces, and the old camera flashed.


	8. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six:**

The following morning, Dean, Sam, Jo, Ellen and Cas drove out to Missouri to hunt the devil. Grace had begged to go, but none of them had let her.

"_You're too young, Grace_," Ellen had said.

"_This is the devil we're talking about, Grace, not some demon_," Bobby had protested.

"_It's too dangerous, Grace,_" Sam had added.

"_We need you to stay here, Grace_," Jo had told her.

"_Not this time, Grace_," Dean had said, shaking his head.

Castiel hadn't said anything, instead he just looked at her curiously; intrigued how a human girl, with no experience in fighting or hunting, was so willing to fight Lucifer himself, despite knowing the amount of danger she'd be putting herself in. However, he didn't say anything and followed Ellen and Jo out of the house in silence, leaving Grace with Bobby.

Dean had suggested that she were to go back to bed and get a lie-in, but Grace felt too nervous for them. They had been saying last night was their last night on earth, but Grace thought she was included in that.

Grace sighed and collapsed onto the sofa in Bobby's living room.

"_Yeah, join Sam and Dean and hunt evil- oh, wait, they won't let you, because they're Sam and Dean!_" she thought.

"Grace?" Bobby called. He wheeled in and she sat up.

"Yeah?"

"How did you find out about us?" he asked. "I mean, Dean said the prophet Chuck had told you, but-"

"You're not one hundred per cent sure?" she finished. He nodded almost regretfully. "I'm not a demon; just human. Chuck wrote a series of books called Supernatural, and they were just a version of Sam and Dean's lives' the _real_ Sam and Dean that is. I read the series, and I liked the stories, if that's what you're wondering."

"Sorry,"

"I don't blame you,"

"Do you want a drink?"

"No, thanks, I've got a slight hangover from last night,"

He nodded. "I'll fix you up some coffee, then,"

Grace stood up. "It's okay; I'll make it myself, thanks,"

"I need something to do, though,"

"Sorry you had to stay here and look after me," Grace sighed.

Bobby shook his head. "I'm in a wheelchair, what do you think I'd be doing with my time?"

Grace chuckled. "Wheelchair racing or something, maybe,"

He laughed, and after a moment or two of silence he cleared his throat quietly.

"They're only making you stay here for your own protection," he said.

"But I just want to help, you know? Do my bit to help save the world from the apocalypse," she said.

Bobby smiled sadly. "I know, and you're braver than a lot of people for wanting to do that, most people would run and hide; leaving it to the authorities."

"I guess, but I just feel so God damned useless!"

"Well there is one thing we can do while we're here: research all we can on Carthage. We can start with the Bible."

Grace nodded. "I'll try find out what Lucifer might want there."

After a couple of hours of research on Carthage, Bobby wheeled himself to kitchen wall where all the phones were hung. He parked himself at the desk and picked up the main one, which was used when he wanted to call Sam or Dean, or any of his other hunters, as Bobby Singer, not as Agent Willis or any of his other aliases.

Grace walked into the kitchen, unsure what to do other than following Bobby around. He dialled in Dean's number, and put it to his ear.

"_The number you have dialled is currently unavailable_," the recorded voice said through the phone loud enough for Grace to hear. _Please try_-"

"Damn it, boys," Bobby sighed in frustration, cutting off the woman telling him to try again later.

Grace sighed, the brothers rarely picked up the phone on hunts. She then heard the buzzing of a radio.

"Bobby?" she called.

They exchanged glances and then he wheeled over to where the sound was coming from. He moved an open book from his desk, revealing an old radio.

"_KC5 Fox Delta Oscar, come in_" a voice said. Bobby pressed a button on the side.

"KC5 Fox Delta Oscar, go ahead," Bobby said clearly into a microphone.

"_Bobby, Grace, it's Dean. We got problems_," Dean's voice said. Bobby sighed and Grace ran over, leaning over to hear the radio clearer.

"That's okay, boy," Bobby said calmly. "That's why we're here."

"Is everyone all right?" Grace asked.

"_No_," said Dean after a slight hesitation. His voice was unsteady. "_It's Jo, it's-it's pretty bad_."

Grace bit her lip.

"Okay, copy that," Bobby said. "So now we figure what we do next."

"_Bobby, I don't think she's_-"

"I said, what do we do next, Dean?"

"_Right. Okay, right_,"

"Now, tell me what you got,"

Dean explained to us all what had happened since they had arrived in Carthage, Missouri.

"Okay," Bobby said at last. "Before he went missing did Cas say how many Reapers?"

"_I don't know,_" Dean said. "_He said a lot of things, I guess. Does the number matter_?"

"Devil's in the details, Dean,"

"_Guys, it's Ellen,_" Ellen's voice said through the radio speakers. "_The way he was looking, number of places Castiel's eyes went, I'd say we're talking over a dozen reapers, probably more._"

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph," Bobby muttered.

"Is that bad?" Grace asked quietly.

"I don't like the sound of it,"

"_Nobody likes the sound of that, Bobby,_" Dean snapped. "_But what does that sound like?_"

"It sounds like Death, son,"

"Death?" Grace asked. "Like, Death itself?"

Bobby nodded. "I think Satan's in town to work a ritual. I think he's planning to unleash Death."

"_You mean, like, as in this dude and taxes are the only sure thing?_"

"As in Death, the horseman, Dean," Grace said.

"The pale rider in the flesh," Bobby added.

"_Unleash? I mean, hasn't Death been tromping all over the place? I mean, hell, I've died several times myself,"_

"Not this guy," Grace said.

"This is the Angel of Death, big daddy reaper," said Bobby. "They keep this guy chained in a box 600 feet under. Last time anyone hauled him up, Noah was building a boat."

Grace realised the connections. "That'll be why the place is crawling with reapers."

Bobby nodded glumly. "They're waiting on the big boss to show."

"_You have any other good news?"_

"Well, in a manner of speaking," said Bobby, scrambling around papers on his desk with one hand, the other holding the microphone. "Grace and I have been researching Carthage since you've been gone. We've been trying to suss out what the devil might want there. What you just said drops the last piece of the puzzle in place."

"The Angel of Death must be brought into this world at midnight through a place of awful carnage," Grace said, reciting what she'd read an hour ago. "Back in the American Civil War, there was a battle in Carthage."

"A battle so intense, the soldiers called it the Battle of Hell Hole," Bobby added.

"_Where'd the massacre go down?"_

"On the land of William Jasper's farm," Grace and Bobby recited at the same time.

Grace was laid on the sofa with the TV turned on and her eyes closed. She wasn't really listening to it, but she tried to so she didn't have to think about the chances of her new friends returning safely.

"_We just received an update that the governor has declared a state of emergency for Paulding County, including the towns of Marion, Fetterville and Carthage_," the woman on the news channel announced, catching Grace's attention.

She heard footsteps in the room next door, and forgetting that Bobby couldn't have made them due to being in a wheelchair; she stood up and called his name.

Instead, she saw Sam and Dean stood in front of the fireplace.

"Sam! Dean! You're okay!" she gasped, smiling in relief. They turned around, but they didn't smile back. "What's wrong? Where're- where're Ellen and Jo?"

They didn't reply. Dean looked down at what Grace realised to be the photograph they had taken the night before, and Sam shook his head sadly. She hadn't realised, but Bobby was sat with them behind the desk, facing away and staring into the flames. He took the photograph from Dean's hands, and threw it into the fire.

He had known Ellen and Jo longer than the brothers, Grace remembered, and her heart broke a little for him.

"Cas?" she asked hesitantly.

"He's okay," Sam said quietly.

Grace nodded. She didn't feel like "good" would have been an appropriate response given that Ellen and Jo had just died.

Several days later, Sam and Dean decided it would be best for them to go hunting again; a simple hunt for a ghost, monster or demon instead of mingling with the affairs of angels and the apocalypse. However, just because it was a simple hunt didn't mean they were going to let Grace go with them. After Carthage, they wanted to keep her housebound more than ever.

However, Grace didn't protest when they said she wasn't to come with them. Not that she wanted to stay at Bobby's, but she respected their wishes, and agreed for their sakes.

Bobby was asleep when Grace woke up the next day. She hadn't done anything the day before, other than watching TV shows she didn't particularly like. She admitted to herself that she felt rather lonely. She usually liked spending time alone, and she still did, but with nothing to do that she enjoyed, she felt like she was being babysat.

"Um, I'm not sure how this is supposed to go, I doubt it'll even work, but, uh, I guess I could give it a go, you know?" Grace started, talking into the empty room with her eyes closed. "Castiel, Cas, I don't know which you prefer, I don't know what the hell I'm doing, but, uh, oh God I give up, never mind…"

She sighed and sat back down on the sofa. "_What the hell was I thinking?"_ she thought to herself. "_I'm such an idiot_."

"Grace?" a husky voice said from behind her, making her jump. She spun around and saw Cas in his usual attire of a white shirt, blue tie and trench coat.

"Cas!"

"You called me?"

"Uh, yeah, sorry," she muttered. He frowned. "You can go back to wherever you were, if you'd prefer, it was selfish of me to ask for you,"

"I wasn't doing anything in particular,"

She paused, thinking of what to say. "So, uh, where were you?"

"Heaven," he said. "One of them, at least."

"So, is that what heaven is like?" Grace asked. "A collection of lots of different heavens?"

Cas nodded. "That is probably the simplest description of it; each soul generates its own paradise."

Grace smiled, trying to picture what her own heaven would be like. If she had been asked that a month ago, it would have been living in the world of Supernatural, where Sam and Dean were real, and she went on hunts with them, and helped save the world.

"Why are you smiling?" he asked, frowning at her curiously.

"I'm thinking of what my own heaven would be like," Grace said, breaking out of her day-dream. "The thought makes me happy. You've never seen that? Someone smiling for no visible reason?"

The angel thought about her question, and then shook his head. Grace chuckled. "For an angel who's been watching over the earth for centuries, you're not particularly familiar with human emotions,"

"Angels are detached from such feelings,"

"That sounds horrible," she said sadly.

"Does it?" he asked.

She looked into Castiel's eyes, which were fixed on hers. "Yeah; to never feel joy, laughter or love."

"But what about sorrow, pain, or corruption. I have seen centuries of that and what it does to humans. Am I really that unlucky to not feel such emotions?"

"You don't think it'd be worth it? I always thought that all the bad in the world is equalled by the good; where there is sorrow, there is the possibility of joy,"

"You look upon the world with different opinions to most," Cas said.

"Is different good or bad?"

He shrugged. "It depends how you look at it."

"That's what experiencing the earth is like. You, and all angels, view the earth as a spectator, rather than a competitor. You see everything as a whole, but you all miss the details,"

"We don't leave anything out as we watch,"

"No, but you don't participate, Cas, you _just_ _watch_. It's like if you were reading a book; you would see sentences without their meanings. You don't understand what's actually going on, and you don't feel involved,"

Cas thought about what Grace was saying, and after consideration, he agreed with her.

"How would you 'participate' then?" he asked her.

She paused a moment, thinking about her answer. "Um, I can show you?" He frowned, and she stepped in front of him. "You can read minds, right?"

He nodded.

"Then take me to where I'm thinking of," she said. A moment later she stepped back again. "Oh, wait a minute."

She ran off to the kitchen, ripped a sheet of lined paper from a notebook, and wrote a note to Bobby:

_Gone out for a bit_

_Don't worry, I'm with Cas so I'll be all right_

_-Grace_

"Okay, done," Grace said to Castiel.

"Are you ready?" he asked, and she nodded.

Castiel thought about what he was doing before raising his fingertips to her forehead. He had never taken anyone anywhere on demand without a reason for it; not even for Dean, who he considered to be his closest friend. Castiel realised he had never even taken _himself_ anywhere without an important reason. But Grace was different; she made him feel like he was important, and more than just a 'good little soldier'. Grace had called him because she was lonely; Cas knew that despite her best efforts to hide it, but she'd called him because she wanted to talk to him, not just calling him because she needed his help. The way she had persuaded him to let her out of Bobby's house… Cas felt like it was for self-discovery; to look upon the earth from another perspective.

He raised his hand to her face, which wasn't hard as Grace only reached his shoulder in height, and placed his index and middle finger on her forehead. She had her eyes closed, and after closing his own Cas searched her thoughts for whatever was brought into her conscious mind.

Grace felt the air temperature around her change before she opened her eyes. It was much colder; the autumn air in England always was.

"Where are we?" Cas asked; it was the first time he was unsure of his surroundings, and he felt a strange feeling in his stomach.

"London, England," Grace answered, and then saw the grimace on the angel's face. "Cas? What's wrong?"

"I-I have a strange feeling in my stomach," he said in his husky voice. "I felt it when I realised I didn't know where I was."

"I'd say you were nervous except you're no paler than normal," she said. "Wait, Cas, do you feel kind of lightheaded? Slightly giddy?"

He nodded, his jaw clenched slightly, and she laughed. "What?" he asked.

"Cas, you're feeling anticipation; excitement. It's no wonder you guys act like you have sticks stuck up your asses; you oversee the world without experiencing any _emotion_! Like, I knew you didn't really have feelings, but I'd never really put much thought into what that actually meant for you,"

"Why would I be feeling excited?" he asked Grace, who was gazing at him with eyes full of both amusement and wonder.

"You've never been anywhere new, have you?" she asked, and he shook his head. "That's why; you don't know what to expect, but you think it's good. If you thought it'd be bad, you'd be feeling nervous."

"What do you get excited about?" he asked, wanting to change the conversation away from his emotions; he wasn't used to it and he doubted he was ever going to.

"Honestly? Releases of the next book in a series and new films I think I'll love," she laughed. "Stupid, I know."

"That doesn't sound stupid," Cas said, shaking his head.

She glanced up and him and smiled. "Thanks."

"I never saw the appeal of a watching a movie," Cas said, thinking about her words.

"Really? They're great!"

"But it's just a moving picture with added sounds. You say you have to experience the world, yet humans just go see movies of everything worth experiencing,"

"Well not everyone knows an angel who can take them to anywhere at any time to experience it for themselves," Grace pointed out. "And it's more than experiencing something; they take you on a story, make you feel emotions you didn't know you had-"

"How does a movie make you feel an emotion?" he asked, interrupting her.

"It's hard to explain, it's like- oh, I give up, it's almost impossible to describe."

Grace lead the way across the city; they walked slowly, so Cas could take in all the lights from the shop windows and car headlights, the sounds of the busy city shoppers, and the smells of the coffee and fast-food stands on the streets.

They saw a man sat on the paved footpath with a tatted hat in front of him with a few coins inside. Realising she had no change on her, she walked on ahead passed him, but the angel didn't follow. Instead, he said hello the man, and sat down next to him.

Grace stared in disbelief as Castiel talked to the man about seeing the city for the first time, and he asked the man how he felt about movies.

He stood up and walked over to Grace. "He hasn't seen a film in his life," Castiel said. "But he says the city is beautiful."

Graced smiled and nodded. "It really is."


	9. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven:**

Dean had told off Grace like she was his younger sister when he heard she'd gone out without telling Bobby.

"But I _told_ you," Grace had argued. "I left Bobby a note, and I was only gone for the day! I'm twenty years old for God's sake!"

"Yeah, but when you signed up to stay with the people who a lot of angels and demons want dead, 'just gone for the day' means a lot!"

"I was with _Cas_! He's your friend, surely you trust _him_, at least?"

Sam had shut us up at that point; scolding Dean for being over protective, and Grace for not telling Bobby.

"No more little day trips, okay? I need to keep an eye on you now; you know too much to be safe alone," Dean had said. "Next time we go on a hunt, you're coming with us."

"I don't need a babysitter, Dean!" Grace yelled, but was actually okay with going hunting; in fact, she loved the idea.

Grace woke up in a motel room one morning to the sound of the shower turning on. She opened her eyes after wiping away the sleep and sat upright. Dean was fully dressed watching some show about doctors on the small television set, so she assumed it was Sam in the bathroom.

"Morning," Dean said, not taking his eyes off the screen.

"Morning," Grace yawned.

Sam came out fully dressed in jeans and a striped shirt with its long sleeves rolled up to his shoulders. Grace slipped into the bathroom after, and had a quick shower before getting dressed into jeans and another t-shirt. She pulled on her trench coat that she wore when she cosplayed as Cas at the Supernatural convention; since then, she felt weird not wearing it.

She stepped outside of the bathroom to see Castiel drawing a symbol with chalk on a piece of what looked like black slate.

"Oh, hey, Cas," she said, running her hands through her wet hair. He nodded in greeting.

"Really, Anna?" Dean said in frustration. "I don't believe it."

"It's true," Cas answered.

"What's going on?" Grace asked.

"Anna, a fallen angel, wants to kill me," Sam explained.

"Why?" Grace asked, shocked at the thought. She remembered Anna from the manuscripts, and had liked her at the time.

"I'm Lucifer's true vessel; if I were out of the picture, Lucifer's plans are cut short,"

"So she's gone all Glenn Close, huh? That's awesome," said Dean sarcastically with a sigh.

"Who's Glenn Close?" Grace and Cas asked at the same time.

"No one, just this psycho bitch who likes to boil rabbits," said Dean, turning away and starting to pace.

Grace frowned.

"So the plan to kill me, would it actually _stop_ Satan?" Sam asked. Grace could read his expression like it was clockwork; he was thinking if he died, the apocalypse would end.

"No, Sam, come on," Dean said, thinking the same as Grace.

"Cas, what do you think?" Sam continued to ask. "Does Anna have a point?"

The angel hesitated. "No," Cas answered finally. "She's, uh, Glenn Close."

"So, what are we doing now?" Grace asked, looking at the symbol Cas drew. "Looking for the angel who wants Sam dead?"

Cas nodded. "Anna will keep trying. She won't give up until Sam is dead,"

"So, we kill her first," Grace said, understanding the plan.

Castiel stood in front of the symbol with a gold cauldron-looking bowl in the centre. He poured a mysterious liquid inside from a glass vial, and muttered incarnations Grace didn't recognise as any language in particular.

He finished the spell, and a large flame of sparks shot out of the bowl, making Cas step back quickly. He leant on the back of a chair, breathing heavily. His eyes were shut tight, and he looked in pain.

"Cas?" Grace asked in a worried tone.

"I found her," he said.

"Where is she?" Dean asked.

"Not where. When,"

"What?" Grace asked in confusion.

"It's 1978," he told her.

"Why 1978? I wasn't even born yet," Sam asked with a frown.

"Exactly," Grace said, catching on.

Cas nodded. "You won't be if she kills your parents,"

"What?" Sam asked, still not understanding. Dean looked as lost as he did.

"Anna can't get to you because of me," Cas explained. "So she's going after them."

"Take us back, now," Dean said.

"And deliver you right to Anna? I should go alone,"

"They're our parents, Cas, we're going," said Dean firmly.

"It's not that easy," Cas said, pacing a little.

"Why not?" Sam asked, wanting to go as much as Dean did.

"Time travel is difficult, even with the powers of heaven at my disposal,"

"But you're cut off," Sam pointed out.

"You're like a DeLorean without plutonium," Dean said.

"I don't understand that reference," Cas said, almost tiredly. "But I'm telling you, taking this trip, with passengers no less, it'll weaken me."

"They're our mum and dad," Dean said, trying to persuade his friend. "If we can save them, and not just from Anna, but I mean, if we can set things right, we have to try."

Several minutes later, the brothers had persuaded Cas to take them, and the angel packed his bag with ancient clay jugs and vials of holy oil. Grace sat down on the bed and unpacked her kindle from her suitcase that she now kept packed up due to moving around the country a lot.

"Grace?" Castiel asked. She looked up.

"Yeah?"

"What are you doing?"

"Uh, reading?"

"Grace, you're coming with us," Dean said.

"What? But it'll weaken Cas if I go, too, and you don't need me," Grace said, surprised.

"I'll be fine, you won't make much difference to it," Castiel told her.

"You'll be safer with us," Dean added.

"I won't go anywhere," Grace sighed, remembering how Dean had taken to her going out for the day.

"I know, but if anything happened, we wouldn't' be able to get you because we'd be stuck over thirty years in the past,"

Grace looked at Cas uncertainly, and then nodded and put away her kindle.

"Ready?" Cas asked the brothers. They nodded, and then the angel turned to Grace. "You'll have to hold onto my arm."

"Bend your knees," Dean told Grace and his brother.

She did so obediently, and wrapped her arm around Cas's and he then placed his hands on the brothers' foreheads.

She closed her eyes tightly, and when she opened them again her surroundings had changed.

She was still latched to Castiel's arm, but the brothers were nowhere in sight. The angel collapsed beside her, into the side of a black and brown car.

"Cas?" she gasped, kneeling down to find out what was wrong. She couldn't see any physical injury, but his nose was bleeding and he had become very pale.

Someone must've heard her, because she heard footsteps from the other side of the car, and looked up to see Sam and Dean running over.

"Cas? Hey!" Dean called, bending down. "Take it easy, take it easy. You all right?"

He nodded, trying to get up. "I'm fine," he said. "Much better than I expected."

Sam and Dean tried to pull him up, but then Cas coughed up blood, and they eased him down again.

"Cas, just tell us what we can do," Grace said desperately. She hated feeling useless.

"Cas?" Sam asked uncertainly, checking if he was conscious. Castiel didn't answer.

Grace put her hand near his face, and felt his warm breath on her fingers, but it was irregular.

"He's breathing," she told the brothers. "Sort of."

"What do we do?" Sam asked.

"Book a hotel room or something, he can't stay here and he doesn't look like he's gonna be moving anytime soon," Grace suggested.

Dean nodded, and looked around. "There's a cheap looking hotel there, we can take him there,"

He and Sam heaved up Cas and they half carried, half dragged him inside the hotel, earning a few questioning looks.

"Hey can we book a room for five nights, please?" Sam asked the man behind the desk. They weren't sure how long it would take for Cas to recover properly, so they had decided to play it safe for once.

"Sorry, man, we only have the honeymoon suite," he replied. Grace thought he looked stoned, although he had a name plate on the desk that indicated he was the manager.

"Perfect," Dean said. "Just right for the, uh, happy couple here."

He gestured Grace and Cas, and she glared at him.

"Ah, congratulations!" the manager said.

"Thanks," she said, forcing a smile.

Dean paid the man in cash, and he gave Grace the room key.

"Oh, and, uh, don't disturb them, okay?" Dean added, and Grace elbowed him subtly in the stomach, making him wince slightly.

"Don't sweat it," the manager said, not noticing the scuffle. "Wanna buy some dope?"

Dean looked like he was contemplating it, but Grace smiled and said "no, thank you" firmly.

The brothers carried Cas into the room, and lifted him onto the double bed with a distasteful duvet cover. In fact, Grace observed, the entire room's décor was distasteful.

Grace pulled out a tissue packet out from her coat pocket, and used one of them to carefully wipe away the blood from Cas's face.

"Okay, so when should I get worried when you don't come back?" she asked the brothers.

"What?" Sam asked.

"Well, it'd be hard to explain to them if I were there; your parents don't know me," Grace started. "And-"

She glanced over at Cas's unconscious body.

"Ah," Dean said quietly, and nodded. "We should be back in a day or two; Anna's looking for Mary and John so all we have to do is get there first."

Grace nodded, and the brothers left the room.

Grace sighed and sat down on the other side of the bed. It was going to be a _long_ day.

Several hours later, just as the sun was starting to set, Castiel awoke.

"Eurgh," he grunted as he sat up and he looked around. "Grace?"

"I'm in here," Grace called from the bathroom, and stepped through the door. "How're you feeling?"

"Well enough," he answered. "Have Sam and Dean gone?"

"Yeah, they've been gone a day now, they should be fine,"

He started to try to stand up, but Grace rushed over and placed her dainty hands on his shoulders, pushing him back down.

"Easy," she murmured. "You've only just woken up, don't push yourself."

"I need to help them,"

"All you _need_ to do is rest. I'll check on them,"

He started to protest, but she had already walked out the door. Castiel sighed, but stayed sat down on the bed.

Grace walked down the fairly busy street, weaving through the maze of people with moustaches and big hair.

"_Okay, it's 1978_," she thought to herself. "_How do I find out where someone lives?_"

She walked passed a phone box, and in the corner of her eyes saw a large book inside.

"The phone directory!" she thought aloud in triumph. She ran back to the phone box and skimmed through the pages of the book.

"Winchesters, 485 Robin Tree," she muttered, trying to memorise it, and she called up a taxi.

"Where to, sweetie?" the driver asked.

"485 Robin Tree," she answered, more confidently than she had done when getting a taxi from her hotel to Chuck's house.

He nodded and drove away, pulling up half an hour later at a small detached house. She was about to knock on the door, but she realised it was open. She opened the door, and stepped inside.

The house was empty, but it looked like it had been left suddenly, and Grace realised Sam and Dean had been there, but then left.

She got back in the taxi, which had waited for her, and went back to the motel.

She paid the taxi driver, hoping he wouldn't look at the date on the ten dollar notes, and went back to the room. Cas was still sat on the bed, not having moved since she left.

"They're not there," she said, slightly out of breath from all the stairs.

"Michael appeared. I felt him. He will have taken Sam and Dean back to their own time," Cas said, and stood up. "We have to go."

"Are you well enough?" Grace asked him. "I mean, if you're not fully recovered you could end up worse than when you arrived here."

"I'll be fine," Castiel lied. He knew he wouldn't be, he wasn't sure whether he would even make it, but he wouldn't leave Grace in 1978. He raised his fingertips to her forehead, and he watched her close her eyes and bend her knees slightly.

Sam was stood in front of the motel's mirror, about to pour out two drinks for himself and his brother, when Castiel and Grace arrived back.

Sam looked up and jumped when he saw their reflections in the mirror, and spun around to face them. Cas looked paler than ever, and his nose was bleeding again. Grace was supporting the angel as well as she could, with her arm wrapped around his waist to hold him steady on his feet.

"Castiel? Hey, hey, hey," Sam said, taking him from Grace as he started to fall. "Whoa, whoa, whoa."

"Cas?" Dean called, and managed to catch him as he was about to fall over, despite Grace's best efforts. "You son of a bitch. You made it."

"_Barely_," Grace thought.

"I did?" Cas said, an expression of tired shock. "I'm very surprised."

"Put him on the bed, he's gonna faint again," Grace said, just before Cas fell heavy in the brothers' arms.

"Whoa, you're okay," Sam grunted, heaving the angel onto one of the three beds in the room. "Bed, yeah, good idea."

Cas bounced slightly on the bed, unconscious again. Grace sighed.

"Well, I could use that drink now," Dean said, breathing heavily.

"Yeah," Sam agreed, and went to the counter.

"You want one, Grace?" Dean asked. She shook her head.

"Actually, on second thoughts I will," she said, changing her mind.

Sam poured three glasses of whiskey, and put the bottle back down onto the counter.

"Well," Dean started. "This is it."

"This is what?" Sam asked.

"Team Free Will," Dean said. "One ex-blood junkie, one dropout with six dollars to his name, a girl who dresses up in a trench coat for kicks, and Mr. Comatose over there."

Grace giggled, and smiled about how she was now 'part of the team'. But the thought of what 'team free will' meant they were fighting for stopped her moment of joy.

"They all say we'll say yes," Sam said after a moment, referring to the angels.

"I know," Dean agreed. "It's getting annoying."

"What if they're right?"

"They're not," Grace said firmly. "They need your permission to take you both as vessels, so they're just trying to make you think there is no other way."

"I mean, why would we, either of us?" Sam said. "But- I've been weak before…"

"Sam," Dean started, telling him to stop thinking like that.

"Michael got Dad to say yes," the younger brother pointed out.

"That was different. Anna was about to kill Mom."

"And if you could save Mom, what would you say?"

"Guys, leave it," Grace sighed, and after a few moments, Dean nodded and walked away.

'How long did it take him to wake up?" Sam asked Grace, glancing over her shoulder at Cas.

"Just over five hours," she answered, turning around to follow his gaze. "But he'll probably take longer this time. He wasn't fully recovered when he came back."

"_Despite telling me otherwise_," she thought.


	10. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight:**

Grace was in the bathroom getting changed when someone knocked on the door.

"We've got a case!" he called.

She slipped out, pulling her hair to one side and braiding it into a single plait.

"What is it?" she asked eagerly.

"A couple eat each other to death," he said, and Sam frowned.

"Werewolves?" he asked.

"Nope," Dean said. "Werewolves just eat the heart, and they wouldn't feast on their own kind."

"What the hell?" Grace muttered. "What kind of person suddenly becomes pro-cannibalism?"

"That's what we're gonna find out," Dean replied.

"I don't suppose you have a suit in your case?" Sam asked her.

"Agent Young and my partner, Agent Foster," Sam said the next day when they arrived at the crime scene, pulling a fake FBI badge out of his suit jacket pocket. Grace did the same and nodded professionally, trying not to seem nervous.

The woman at the door smiled and welcomed them inside.

Sam, Dean and Grace looked around a while before questioning the woman.

"So, you were the one who found the bodies?" Sam asked, checking out a Valentine's Day card stuck to the fridge, which featured a bloody handprint.

"There was blood everywhere… and other stuff," she answered, taking down framed photographs from the fireplace. "I think Alice was already dead."

"But Russell wasn't?" Sam asked.

"I think he was, mostly. Except he was still sort of, uh, chewing a little,"

Grace grimaced. "_Ew_," she thought.

"Oh," was all Sam said in response.

"How could two people even do that?" the woman asked rhetorically. "Eat each other to death?"

"Or, what could drive two people to eat each other to do that?" Grace muttered.

"It's a really good question," Sam answered under his breath.

"Over the last few days, did Alice act any differently?" Grace asked the woman.

"Different how?"

"Did you notice her acting erratically?" Sam asked, rephrasing Grace's question for her. "Did she seem unusually hostile? Aggressive?"

"No way," she replied. "Alice never drank. Never even swore. She was a nice girl, and I'm taking, like, a _nice_ girl. Like, she still had her promise ring, if you know what I mean."

"She was a virgin?" Sam asked.

"No premarital. I used to wonder how she did it. I mean, you know, didn't do it. It was her first date in months; she was so excited,"

"Apparently they were both pretty excited," Sam said grimly.

"May I have a look in Alice's bedroom?" Grace asked.

The woman nodded. "Upstairs, second door on the left."

She climbed the stairs, and pulled out the EMF device Dean gave her that morning. She walked around the halls and rooms, but the device in her hands didn't whine or anything. Nothing.

She went back downstairs and stood next to Sam while the woman was next door.

"No EMF," she told him quietly. "Find any sulphur?"

He shook his head.

"How did it go?" Dean asked them when they got back. He's arrived from the motel earlier from the coroner's, where the couple's bodies were kept.

"Uh, nothing," Sam said, shutting and locking the door after Grace stepped inside the motel room. "No EMF, no sulphur."

"Ghost and demonic possession are both out," Grace sighed, sitting down on the bed and taking off her suit jacket that she bought the day before.

"That's where I was putting my money," Dean said.

"Nope," said Sam.

"Well, then what, then?" Dean asked, wiping his eyes with the backs of his hands. "Oh, dude, at the coroner's, you didn't see these bodies. I mean, these two started eating each other and they just kept going. I mean, their stomachs were full; like, Thanksgiving dinner full. Talk about co-dependent."

"Well, I mean we've got our feelers out," Sam said, sitting down. "Not much more we can do tonight. Alright, I'm gonna go through some files, you can go ahead and get going."

"I'm sorry?" Dean asked, frowning at his brother.

"Go ahead," repeated Sam. "Unleash the Kraken. See you tomorrow morning."

Grace frowned.

"Where am I going?" Dean asked.

"Dean, it's Valentine's Day," Sam said, expecting him to have realised. "Your favourite holiday, remember? I mean, what do you always call it?"

"Unattached drifter Christmas," Grace said, and the brothers turned to look at her with raised eyebrows. "Sorry, I read the books like they were my Bible."

Dean nodded and sighed, standing up to pull a bottle of beer out of the fridge. "Yeah, well, be that as it may, I don't know, I guess I'm not feeling it this year."

Grace nearly choked.

"So you're not into bars full of lonely women?" Sam asked, astounded.

"Hey! Just because we're lonely doesn't mean we'd sleep with _anybody_," Grace protested, remembering she'd never had a Valentine's date in her life.

"Sorry," Sam muttered.

"No, I guess not," Dean said to Sam, answering his question. Sam frowned at him. "What?"

"It's when a dog doesn't eat," Sam said. "That's when you know something's really wrong."

"Remarkably patronising concern. Duly noted," Dean said, annoyed. "Nothing is wrong. Are we gonna work or what?"

"Speak for yourselves," Grace said. "I could have a date, you know."

"Do you?" Dean asked her, raising an eyebrow.

"No, but there's no need to raise your eyebrow at me, Dean,"

He rolled his eyes, and opened up Sam's laptop to read through the files.

Grace was awoken early next morning by the police radio. She scribbled down the address it had said, and then run into the bathroom to get changed. Sam and Dean were still asleep when she went back into the room.

"Guys," she hissed, poking at Dean's muscled shoulder. "Wake up."

"What is it?" Sam asked in a croak, Grace laughed at how different and vulnerable his sleepy voice sounded.

"There's been another one," she said as they got out of bed. She turned away and faced the wall as they quickly got dressed. "Another double suicide, a couple again; though they shot each other rather than eating each other's guts."

"Where?" Dean asked, fastening his tie.

She handed him the slip of paper which held the address. "Dunno if I spelt it right."

They walked down the corridor of the hospital heading down to the morgue, and passed a bald, skinny man in a black suit and he was holding a briefcase. Sam looked at him oddly as he walked passed.

"Sam?" Grace asked him.

"Nothing," he replied.

"You okay?" Dean asked, frowning.

"Yeah, I'm fine,"

They walked into the morgue, pushing the double doors open. An old man wearing a white labcoat covered a body with a pale blue sheet, and checked something on an overhead screen. He turned towards them and recognised Dean.

"Agent Marley," he said. "You just can't stay away."

"I heard you tagged another double suicide," Dean said.

"I'm just finished closing him up,"

"Doctor this is my partner, Special Agent Cliff, and trainee special agent Foster,"

"You look young to be a trainee for a _special_ agent," the doctor said to Grace. She noticed he had a name tag on his labcoat reading 'Dr. Corman'.

"I'm good," Grace said smoothly.

The old man sighed and pulled off his labcoat, hanging it up. "I pulled the organ sets and sent off the tox samples,"

"Great," Sam said. "Mind if we take a look?"

"Not at all, but like I said their good-and-plenties are already Tupperwared,"

"Super,"

"Just leave the keys with Marty up front, and _please_, agents, refrigerate after opening,"

"We will," Grace said as Corman left the morgue with his coat and hat. She opened the fridge and pulled out several Tupperware boxes with all the organs of the couple, giving some to Sam and Dean, who knew what they were doing unlike Grace.

She kept one with a liver inside, and took off the lid.

"Hey," Dean whispered to her. She looked up to see him pushing an open Tupperware with a heart inside towards her. "Be my Valentine?"

Grace laughed too loudly to sound pleasant.

Sam looked up and pulled an '_I can't believe you just did that_' face at Dean. Dean grinned in return, and Grace giggled.

Sam then took a second look at the heart Dean had given Grace, and slid it towards the one he had in front of him.

"Look at this," he said, putting the boxes together for comparison. "These hearts both have identical marks. Check this out."

He put the hearts under a massive magnifying glass, and he looked through it.

"It looks like some kind of letter," Grace said, glancing through the glass.

"Oh, no," Sam said, realising something unknown to Grace or Dean.

"What?" they asked in sync.

Sam pushed the glass away and sighed. "I think it's Enochian,"

"You mean like angel scratches?" asked Dean. "So you think it's like the tagging on our ribs?"

"I don't know,"

"Ah, hell,"

"What does it say? The letter, I mean," Grace asked.

"I don't know," Dean said, and he pulled out his phone.

"Cas, it's Dean," he said into the phone. "Yeah, Room 31C, basement level."

He put the phone on his shoulder so Cas wouldn't hear. "Guys, what's the hospital called?"

"St. James' Medical Centre," Grace said, and as soon as she did she saw Castiel in front of Dean, though he hadn't noticed the angel yet. Dean turned around and jumped slightly at the sight of him.

"I'm there now," Cas said, still talking to the phone. Grace smiled to herself.

"Yeah, I get that," Dean said, looking at Cas but into the phone.

"I'm gonna hang up now,"

"Right,"

Grace rolled her eyes and walked over to them. She pulled both phones out of their hands and handed them out to them. Cas stared at her.

"What? You guys were never gonna hang up, and we have work to do," she said, stepping back to Sam and the organs.

Cas followed her and picked up one of the hearts, not bothering to put on a rubber glove.

"We think they have Enochian on them," Sam said.

"You're right, Sam, these are angelic marks," Cas said. "I imagine you'll find similar marks on the other couple's hearts, as well."

"What are they?" Sam asked.

"What do the marks mean," Grace added.

"It's a mark of union. This man and woman were intended to mate," he said, rather awkwardly.

"Okay," Dean said. "But who put them there?"

"Well, your people call them cupid," Cas said.

"A what?" Sam asked. Grace recognised the word but couldn't think of what it was.

"What human myth has mistaken for cupid is actually a lower order of angel. Technically it's a cherub, third class,"

"A cherub?" Grace asked. She thought it sounded like the name of a Pokémon rather than anything to do with angels.

"Yeah," Cas said. "They're all over the world, dozens of them."

"You mean the little flying fat kid in diapers?" Dean asked, reminding Grace what a cupid was.

"They're not in-continent," Castiel said.

"Anyway, so, what you're saying is-" Sam started.

"What I'm saying is a cupid has gone rogue," Cas said, cutting him off. Grace had never seen him so flustered. "We have to stop him, before he kills again."

"Naturally," Sam said.

"Of course we do," Dean added, but didn't look like he believed it.

"Well, we won't find a rogue cupid here," Grace said. "We'll have to go somewhere else."

"Good idea; a bar sounds good," Dean said immediately.

"No," Grace and Cas said at the same time. Grace blushed slightly when he caught her eye.

"A restaurant, at least," she said.

Dean sighed. "Okay, but _with_ a bar, please."


	11. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine:**

They headed down into the town centre, and Cas stopped at the first restaurant they walked passed.

"Here," he said, and stopped.

"Cas, that's the first one we've seen," Grace said, who'd been walking slightly ahead of him.

"They'll be cheaper places further on." Sam was about to add, except Castiel had already stepped inside. Grace sighed, and followed him in with the Winchesters at her heels.

"Table for four please," Grace said to the man who was looking at Cas expectantly. He hadn't noticed him, but instead was searching for all the couples sat down, which was almost all of those in the whole building.

The man nodded. "Follow me, please,"

The four of them sat down at a small table in the busy, noisy restaurant. He then placed four menus on the table, and walked away to serve another table.

"What would you like to order," a waitress asked ten minutes later when she approached their table.

"Uh, I'll have a cheese burger with a side of fries," Dean said, flashing the waitress a smile. She smiled back flirtily, scribbling his order into her notebook.

"A margarita pizza with chips- I mean, uh, fries, please," Grace said, forgetting the difference in dialect between England and America.

"You're British?" she asked, giving her more attention than she gave Dean. "Awesome!"

"Thanks," Grace smiled, getting a little tired of everyone pointing it out. She already felt like a foreigner without being pointed at.

"I'll have a chicken salad," Sam ordered.

"Nothing for me," Cas said with the dismissive wave of his hand.

"Why would you order chips with pizza?" Dean asked, thinking she'd tried to order what he thought were crisps.

"Fries are called chips in England," Grace explained.

"Then what are what we call chips?"

"Crisps,"

"And what are fries?"

"They're not really anything. I mean, we have French Fries, which are a band of crisps- chips, for you," Grace said, getting herself confused.

She fell silent when the waitress came back with their food.

"So, what, you just happen to know he likes the cosmos at this place?" Dean asked Cas as he took off the top half of the burger and squirted tomato sauce on.

"This place is a nexus of human reproduction," Cas answered. "It's exactly the kind of garden the cupid will come to pollinate."

Grace took a large bite out of a slice of her pizza, and the cheese was so stringy that she had a difficult time of pulling it away. Cas watched her with a slight frown on his forehead.

"It's really stringy cheese," she, completely forgetting her table manners her mother tried to teach her, said with her mouth full. She swallowed. "You try eating it elegantly."

Dean finished adding the ketchup, and was about to take a bite when he put the burger back on his plate and pushed it away.

"Wait a minute," Sam said. "You're not hungry?"

"No," Dean said, not seeing a problem. Sam sighed. "What? I'm not hungry."

"Then you're not gonna finish that?" Cas asked, and unexpectedly took Dean's plate and put it before him. He picked up the burger, ignoring the stares from Dean and Sam and Grace's raised eyebrows, and was about to take a bite when he froze.

"He's here," he said.

"Where?" Grace asked, looking around the restaurant. All she saw were couples having a good time, and single people at the bar looking lonely.

"I don't see anything," Sam said.

"There," Cas said, and Grace followed his gaze to a couple making out.

"You mean the same-side-of-the-booth couple over there?" Dean asked.

"Meet me in the back," Cas said, and disappeared.

Grace got up, and rushed passed rows of tables, not noticing a good looking waiter give her a wink. Sam and Dean followed her and they turned down a corridor into a room with crates of old bottles of wine.

Castiel was stood with his back turned away from them, with his arm stretched out in front of him, palm facing up.

"Cas, where is he?" Sam asked.

"I have him tethered," he replied, not turning away. He started speaking in a language Grace didn't recognise, and she assumed it was Enochian. "Manifest yourself."

Sam and Dean looked around, but didn't see anything.

"So where is he?" Dean asked Cas, and as the angel turned around Dean was lifted up by a large naked man with a large grin on his face.

"Here I am," the cherub said.

The cherub rocked Dean in his arms like Dean was a rag doll, and chuckled.

"Help!" Dean shouted, looking terrified while the cherub laughed.

"Oh, help is on the way," he cooed. "Yes it is, yes it is."

Dean tried to break free of his grip, but had no such luck. Instead, he let go of him by choice and skipped over to Cas.

"Hello, you!" he said, and hugged him tightly, making Cas grunt out of a loss of breath. Grace just realised the cherub was _completely_ naked, and grimaced at the sight of his bare ass. She shuddered at the thought of him hugging her.

"This is Cupid?" Dean asked Cas.

"Yes," Cas said, squirming in Cupid's arms.

He let go of the angel, and then spotted Sam. "And look at you!"

"No," Sam said, putting his hands out in front of him like a shield.

'Yes, yes, yes," he sang and pulled him into a tight embrace.

"Is this a fight? Are we in a fight?" Dean asked Cas in a panic, completely unsure of what to do.

"This is their handshake," Cas told him.

"I don't like it," Dean said, watching his brother try to push away Cupid.

"Who would like it?" Grace remarked.

Cas shook his head. "No one likes it."

Cupid finally let go of Sam, and Grace quickly stood behind Dean, trying to hide.

"Ah, what can I do for you?" Cupid asked Dean and Castiel, not noticing Grace.

"Why are you doing this?" Cas asked.

"Doing what?"

"Your targets, the ones you've marked, they're slaughtering each other,"

Cupid's grin fell. "What? They are?"

Grace was about to ask "_you don't know_?" but then remembered Cas, Dean and Sam's faces when the cherub hugged them, and thought it better to stay silent.

"Listen, birthday suit," said Dean. "We know, okay? We know you've been flitting around, popping people with your poisoned arrow, making them murder each other."

The cherub bit his lip.

"What we don't know is why," Cas said.

"You think that I-? Well… uh…" Cupid started, looking down as if he were about to cry. "I don't know what to say!"

Cupid started sobbing, and Grace stepped out from behind Dean.

"Guys?" she asked, wondering if she'd missed something. "Er-"

"Should somebody maybe go talk to him?" Sam started to say, but Grace was already at Cupid's side.

"Are, are you okay?" she asked him, awkwardly resting her hand on his shoulder. The cherub pulled her into an unexpected hug, and she felt his tears on her shoulder through her trench coat that she loved. He let her go as soon as she started to squirm.

"Thank you," he said, wiping away his tears. Grace smiled awkwardly.

Cas approached Cupid with caution "Um, look, we didn't mean to, um," Cas started awkwardly, and looked back to Dean and Sam for support. Dean gave him a thumbs up, and Sam nodded encouragingly; neither of them wanting to take his place.

"They didn't mean to accuse you of anything," Grace said kindly. "I'm sure no one meant to hurt your feelings."

Cupid looked from Grace to Cas, who nodded, and then he pulled Castiel into another hug. Grace stepped away awkwardly, back to Sam and Dean.

"Love is more than a word to me, you know? I, I _love_ love. I love it. If that's wrong, then I don't want to be right," he said.

"Yes, yes, of course, I-" Cas said, starting to pull away. He then frowned. "I have no idea what you're saying."

Cupid let Cas go, but kept his hands on Cas' shoulders. "I was just on my appointed rounds. Whatever my targets do after that, that's nothing to do with me. I was following my orders."

"Orders from who?" Grace asked, but Cupid didn't hear her.

"Please, brother, read my mind. Read it, you'll see," he said to Cas.

Cas, after staring into Cupid's hazel eyes for a few seconds, turned to Sam, Dean and Grace.

"He's telling the truth," he said.

Cupid sighed heavily in relief. "Jiminy Christmas, thank you,"

"Wait, you said you were following orders; whose orders?" Grace repeated.

Cupid laughed. "Heaven, silly. Heaven."

"Why does haven care if Harry meets Sally?" Dean asked it.

"I love that film," Grace muttered absentmindedly, earning a slight shake of Sams head.

"Mostly they don't, but you know, certain bloodlines, certain destinies… like yours." Cupid said seriously.

"What?" Grace asked.

"Oh, I didn't mean you," Cupid said, and Grace turned to Sam and Dean who were stood on either side of her. Sam raised his eyebrow.

"Yeah, the union of John and Mary Winchester," Cupid continued. "_Very_ big deal upstairs. Top priority arrangement."

"Are you saying you fixed up our parents?" Dean asked.

"Well, not _me_, but yeah. Oh, it wasn't easy either; couldn't stand each other at first. But when we were done with them: perfect couple."

"Perfect?" Dean asked, looking angry.

"Yeah,"

"They're dead,"

"I'm sorry, but the orders were very clear. You and Sam needed to be born. Your parents were just, uh, _made to be_!" he said, and started to sing. "_A match made in heaven, heaven_,"

Dean punched Cupid, but he nearly broke his hand in the process, and the cherub just looked like a kid who'd just been shouted at by his mother.

"Son of a bitch," Dean grunted, pulling his injured hand into the other. There was a whooshing noise, and Cupid vanished.

"Where is he? Where did he go?" Dean asked, his voice louder than normal.

"You just _punched_ him, Dean," Grace said.

"I believe you upset him," said Cas.

"Upset _him_?"

"Dean, enough," Sam soothed.

"What?"

"You just punched a cupid,"

"I punched a dick,"

Grace sighed in frustration and rolled her eyes.

"Um, are we not gonna talk about what's been up with you lately or not?" Sam continued.

"Or not," Dean said and walked outside.

Sam sighed and Grace turned around to see Cas had disappeared as well.

"Come on," she said to Sam, and they followed Dean out.

They headed back to the medical centre, and Sam led the way into the morgue. Grace was wearing a grey suit under her trench coat, but every person she'd talked to as a 'special agent trainee' had questioned her age rather than her attire, which was good except that it made her feel more self-conscious than usual.

They saw Dr. Corman, and he led them into one of the rooms.

"You said you wanna hear about any weird ones," Corman said, leading them to a body covered with a blue sheet. He pulled back the cover, revealing a thirty-something year old man, with an odd protrusion on his stomach. "Lester Finch. I pulled his records."

He gave Sam a clipboard.

"Looks like this gentleman used to weigh 400 pounds or so until he gotta gastric bypass which brought down his weight considerably. Then for some reason, last night, he decided to go on a Twinkie binge,"

"So he died from a _Twinkie binge_?" Grace asked, raising her eyebrow.

"Well, after he blew out the band around his stomach, he filled it up until it burst. When he could no longer swallow, he started jamming the cakes down his gullet with a- with a toilet brush,"

"Oh," Grace exhaled. Sam loosened his shirt collar.

"Like he was ramrodding a cannon," Dr. Corman continued.

Sam blew out his breath. "So what do you make of it?"

"I'd say that it was a very peculiar thing to do," Corman said after hesitation, and took a drink out of a silver hip flask. Grace doubted it was water.

"Do you still have his organs?" Grace asked, thinking to check if he had the angelic marks the couples did.

"Yeah, they're in Tupperwares in the refrigerator.

She headed over to the large, silver fridge, and pulled out the plastic box with Lester Finch's heart in. Sam walked over to her.

"Any marks?" he asked quietly. She shook her head.

"None that I can see," she whispered, and put the heart back in the fridge.

"Thank you for your time," she said to the doctor, who had put his hipflask back into his trouser pocket, and she and Sam left the hospital.

Sam pulled out his mobile phone, and called Dean.

"Hey, so this guy was not marked by Cupid, but his death is definitely suspicious," he said

"_Yeah, well I just went through the police blotter and counting him, that's eight suicides since Wednesday, and nineteen ODs,_" Dean's voice said through the phone's speaker. "_Way out of the seasonal batting average."_

"Yeah, if there's a pattern here, it ain't just love. It's a hell of a lot bigger than we thought,"

"_Yeah, alright I'll see you in ten. Is Grace still with you?"_

"Not got rid of me yet, Dean," Grace shouted so he could hear her. She heard Dean laugh and Sam hung up the phone and put it in his pocket.

Sam froze, and Grace whirled around to see what he was staring at. A skinny, bald man in a black suit, carrying a suitcase.

"Hey! He was in the hospital," she hissed.

Sam nodded with his jaw clenched. "Stay here," he said, and followed the man.

"Stay here my ass," she muttered, and ran after him.

He hid behind a brick wall, and Grace heard the man's footsteps from around the corner. Sam jumped out, pushed him against the wall and held a silver knife with a jagged blade to his neck.

"I know what you are, damn it," Sam spat. He cut at the man's cheekbone and he yelled out in pain. "I could smell you."

"_Smell you?_" Grace thought.

"Winchester," the demon said in a low growl. Sam looked down and breathed heavily, as if he had just realised what he was doing. The demon took this as an opportunity, and punched Sam in the jaw, making Sam grunt, and then he hit Sam in the face with his briefcase. Sam used the knife to cut at the demon's arm, who hissed in pain, but managed to make a run for it.

Grace ran after him, though stopped after a few steps when she realised she had no weapons whatsoever. She turned back to Sam.

"What the hell? Why'd you get him get away?" she demanded, but Sam ignored her. His gaze was fixed on the blood dripping on his knife.

"_No_," she thought, remembering that he used to drink it so he had demon powers. She pulled a tissue out of her coat pocket and grabbed the knife off Sam, cleaning it and removing the blood before handing it back to him.

"It's your choice if you want to tell Dean or not," she said quietly, not wanting to lie but respecting Sam's privacy. He didn't answer her, but picked up the briefcase the demon dropped.

"We should take this with us," he said finally.


	12. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten:**

Sam dropped the briefcase onto the coffee table in front of Dean.

"What the hell's a demon got to do with this anyway?" Dean asked.

"Believe me, I got no idea," Sam answered, and then sighed.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'll be all right,"

"Sam?" Grace asked him, knowing something was wrong.

"I'm fine!" he insisted. Dean sighed, and gave Grace a look that told her to leave it. He turned to the briefcase.

"Let's crack her open," he said. "I mean, what's the worst that could happen, right?"

Sam knelt down to the locks on the case, which were some kind of ancient language rather than numbers. He fiddled around with different combinations until the case popped open, and a bright, white light burst out, flooding the room.

Grace squinted, and covered her eyes with her coat sleeve. She felt the light dim down, and then she opened her eyes again. Dean and Sam had turned away from the light as well.

"What the hell was that?" Dean asked, looking a little spooked.

"That was a human soul," a husky voice said from behind all three of them, and Grace turned around to see Castiel. She felt heat rising to her cheeks, though she didn't know why. She then noticed he was holding a paper bag she recognised to be from a chain of fast-food restaurants called White Castle.

"It's starting to make sense," he said, referring to the soul in the briefcase. He took a bite from a burger, not noticing Grace and Dean's frowns.

"_Since when do angels eat?_" Grace thought.

"Now, what about that makes sense?" asked Sam.

"And when did you start eating?" Dean asked.

"Exactly," Cas replied. "My hunger. It's a clue actually."

"For what?" Grace, Dean and Sam all said at the same time.

"This town isn't suffering from a love-gone-wrong effect," Cas explained. "It's suffering from hunger. Starvation, to be exact. Specifically, Famine."

"Famine?" Sam asked.

Cas nodded.

"You make it sound like famine is a person," Grace said, confused.

"Famine's one of the horsemen," Castiel told her.

"Great. That's freaking great," Dean said sarcastically.

"I thought Famine meant starvation, like, as in, you know, _food_," Sam said.

"Me too," added Grace.

"Yes, absolutely," said Cas. "But, not _just_ food. I mean, everyone seems to be starving for something: sex, attention, drugs, love…"

"Well, that explains the puppy-lovers that Cupid shot up," said Dean.

Grace looked at Sam, thinking of how he'd looked at the blood on his knife after killing the demon. "_Did Sam have a craving for demon blood?"_ she thought.

"Right," Cas said to Dean. "The cherub made them crave love, and then Famine came and made them rabid for it."

"Okay, but what about you?" Dean asked the angel.

Grace nodded. "I thought angels didn't eat food, and here you are, stuffing yourself on White Castle,"

"It's my vessel," Cas explained, looking down at the half eaten burger in his hand, and taking another bite. "Jimmy. His, uh, appetite for red meat has been touched by Famine's effect."

"So Famine just rolls into town and everybody goes crazy?" Dean asked.

"Sounds like it," Grace said with a sigh.

"And then will come Famine, riding on a black steed," Castiel quoted. "He will ride into the land of plenty, and great will be the horseman's hunger for he is hunger. His hunger will seem out and poison the air."

"Pleasant," Grace said darkly.

"I don't see how that is pleasant," Cas said to her with a frown.

"I was being ironic," she explained with a shrug. "Never mind."

"Famine is hungry," Cas said to the brothers. "He must devour the souls of his victims."

"So, what, that demon with the briefcase was working for him?" Grace asked, remembering it was a soul inside the case.

"Lucifer has sent his demons to care for Famine, to feed him, make certain he'll be ready," he answered her.

"Ready for what?" Sam asked.

"To march across the land," Cas said gravely.

They all fell silent, and Sam went into the bathroom for a few minutes, and came back with his face and the face of his neck slightly damp.

"Famine?" Dean asked, not wanting to believe it.

"Yes," Cas confirmed, stuffing himself.

A little hungry, but not ravenous, Grace took the bag off Cas and pulled out the last burger. Cas looked like a four year old who'd just dropped his ice-cream.

"What?" she asked, and then sighed, breaking the burger into two with her hands and giving him half. He smiled and accepted it childishly, and she smiled to herself.

"So, what, this whole town is just gonna eat, drink and screw itself to death?" Sam asked angrily.

"We should stop it," Cas said.

"You don't say?" Grace chuckled.

"How?" Dean asked.

"How'd you stop the last horseman you met?" the angel asked.

"They cut off his ring," Grace said, thinking of how the brothers fought off War.

Dean nodded and went over to where his leather jacket was hanging. He pulled out something from its pocket. "War got his mojo from the ring. And after we cut it off, he just tucked tail and ran. Everybody affected there, it was like they woke up out of a dream."

"Will that work this time?" Grace asked Cas.

"You think Famine has a class ring too?" asked Dean.

Castiel nodded to Grace and then turned to Dean. "I know he does."

"Well, okay, let's go track him down and get to chopping," Dean said impatiently.

Castiel took back the paper bag from Grace and poked inside looking for crumbs.

"What are you now, the Hamburglar?" Dean sighed.

"I've developed a taste for ground beef," Castiel said, not looking up.

"It's empty, Cas," Grace sighed, taking the bag back by prying Castiel's fingers off it. She then looked up at Sam, who looked like he was struggling to focus. She stood up and walked over to his side while Dean and Cas were arguing over whether Cas could stop eating.

"Sam? You okay?" Grace asked him, placing a hand on his shoulder gently.

He shook his head slightly after a pause.

"Whatever," Grace heard Dean say. "Sam, let's roll."

"Dean," Sam started. "I, um,"

"You're affected by Famine, aren't you?" Grace said quietly.

He nodded. "I think it got to me."

Dean looked up. "What do you mean?"

"I think I'm hungry for it,"

"Demon blood," Grace said, in case it wasn't obvious to everyone else.

"You gotta be kidding me," Dean said. He turned to Castiel. "You gotta get him out of here. You gotta beam him to Montana. Anywhere but here."

"It won't work. He's already, infected. Hunger's gonna travel with him,"

"Well we've got to do _something_," Grace cried, remembering reading about Sam's detoxing.

"You go cut that bastard's finger off," Sam said breathlessly.

"You heard him," Dean said to Cas.

"But, Dean," Sam said. "Before you go you better, you better lock me down."

Dean nodded once, and proceeded to handcuff Sam to the bathroom sink.

"I'm sorry, Sam," she said sadly.

"Just hang in there," Dean said to his brother while he put the handcuff keys in his pocket. "We'll be back as soon as we can."

"Be careful," Sam said. "And hurry."

Dean nodded, slapped his brother on the shoulder, and walked out, locking the door behind him.

Castiel moved the wardrobe tirelessly so it blocked the bathroom door.

"Let's go," Dean said, and he and Castiel walked out.

Grace hissed in pain quietly, feeling sick and dizzy to the stomach but not wanting to draw attention to herself. "You guys go ahead, I'll catch up with you in a sec," she called, and sat down on the bed, putting her head in her hands to dull down the headache.


	13. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven:**

Castiel and Dean were halfway to the hospital, when Cas turned to Dean, who was driving.

"What?" Dean asked him, looking away from the road.

"I'm worried about Grace," Cas answered, looking back to the direction they came in.

"I'm sure she's fine, she said she'd catch up with us,"

"I think something's wrong,"

"She'll be okay, Cas, she's probably doing, you know, girl stuff,"

Cas frowned.

"You know as much as I do," Dean shrugged.

"I'm going to go check on her," Cas said and appeared a moment later inside the motel room, where Grace was laid on the floor unconscious. He rushed over and picked her up, sitting her down on the bed.

"Grace?" he asked, holding her head in his hand while she started to wake up.

"C-Cas?" she muttered, wincing slightly.

"Are you okay?"

She smiled. "I am now,"

"What happened?"

"I felt really dizzy for a second, lightheaded, you know? But I'm okay now, because you're here… thanks for saving me, Cas,"

"Uh, no problem," said Cas, wondering if she had hit her head when she fell.

Grace laughed, making Castiel frown at her. "You're an angel," she giggled.

"Yes, yes I am,"

"Where are your wings?"

"I'm in a human vessel; humans don't have wings," Cas explained, looking for a bruise on the side of her face, thinking he should make her lie down and sleep or something.

"What do you look like when you're not in a vessel?"

"Well, I'm much bigger than I am now,"

She giggled.

"Did you know," she sung. "I ship us; do you know what that means?"

The angel shook his head, and she smiled toothily. Castiel wondered if she was drunk.

"Well, to ship means to want two people to be together, like, I ship Ron and Hermione in Harry Potter, and John and Sherlock in Sherlock."

Cas didn't answer.

"And you always merge their names together to make a ship name, like, Romione and Johnlock. We'd be Grastiel," she giggled, her eyes starting to lose focus. "Or Crace."

She laughed loudly.

"I think you're drunk," Castiel said, putting his arms around her to pick her up and put her on the bed. "Sleep it off, Dean and I should be back soon. You can look after Sam or something."

Grace shook her head, and instead she leaned in towards Cas, her lips parted slightly. As a reflex, Castiel raised his hand to her forehead and she fell forwards into his arms unconscious again.

"Uh," Cas muttered, thinking of what to do. He started to lift her up to put her on the bed, and Dean walked in.

"Oh," he said, taken aback. "I didn't realise you two, uh-"

"It's not what it looks like," Cas said.

"Well, it's not the best of timing, you know, with _Famine_ in town,"

"Dean, she's unconscious. I knocked her out,"

"Oh. Why did you knock her out, exactly?"

"She tried to, um, kiss me. I came into the room, and she was on the floor unconscious, and when I woke her up she seemed like she was drunk, and then she, uh,"

"Made a move on you?" Dean assumed. Cas nodded. "And you decided the best way to react was to knock her out?"

Castiel sighed, not trying to defend his actions. He had never been in that kind of situation before, so knocking her out was the first thing he thought of. Besides, it wasn't really Grace who had tried to kiss him; it was whatever had been influencing her actions.

"Dean!" Cas said, realising what it was that changed Grace. "She's been affected by Famine."

"Am I the only one not craving anything?" Dean sighed. "Come on, then, let's get that damn ring before Sam and Grace go crazy."

Castiel took Dean to the hospital. They walked down a corridor until Dean recognised one of the doctors.

"Hey, Marty," he greeted. "Is Dr. Corman around?"

"You haven't heard?" Marty asked.

"Heard what?"

Marty sighed, and lead them into the morgue. On the table lay a body, and the doctor pulled back the sheet to reveal Dr. Corman's face.

"The guy's been dry for the last twenty years," Marty said. "But this morning, he left work, went home and drank himself to death."

"It's Famine," Cas explained, earning a glare from Dean. Castiel didn't quite grasp the concept of lying to protect people from the truth.

"Pardon?" Marty asked him, confusion written across his face.

"Would you give us a minute?" Dean asked the doctor, and turned to Cas when Marty left the room.

"Crap," Dean said, walking around the body. "I really kind of liked this guy."

Cas rested his hand on the man's stomach. "They haven't harvested his soul yet," he said.

"Well, if we wanna play Follow The Soul to get to Famine, our best shot starts with the doc here.

Cas nodded and disappeared, leaving Dean to walk back to his car.

"Lazy son of a bitch," he muttered. "Can't even walk out of a building."

Dean climbed into the driver's seat, and Cas appeared a moment later with a bag full of White Castle burgers. Dean groaned as the angel ripped open one of them and shoved it into his mouth.

"Are you serious?" Dean asked, not impressed.

Cas smiled at the taste. "These make me, very happy,"

"How many is that?"

"Lost count. It's in the low hundreds,"

Dean whistled.

"What I don't understand is: where is your hunger, Dean?"

"Huh?"

"I mean, my vessel craves red meat, Sam craves demon blood, Grace craves… I don't know, affection, maybe, but; slowly but surely, everyone in this town is falling prey to Famine. But so far, you seem unaffected,"

"Hey, when I wanna drink, I drink. When I want sex, I go get it. Same goes for a sandwich or a fight,"

"So, you're just saying you're well-adjusted?"

"God, no! I'm just well-fed,"

Cas nodded slightly, and then glanced out of the window behind Dean. "Look. There,"

Dean followed his gaze to a man in a black suit, carrying a briefcase. He climbed into a car and drove away.

Cas was still eating when Dean put the Impala into gear and followed the demon.

Grace awoke when she heard loud thudding in the bathroom. She bolted upright.

"_Sam_," she thought. She stood up, ignoring her throbbing head, and knocked on the wardrobe in front of the door, hoping he could hear her.

"Sam?" she called. "You okay?"

"Grace," he grunted. "You need to get out of here,"

"I'm not leaving you, Sam,"

He groaned, and then she heard someone unlock the door. She whirled around to a woman and a man, both in black suits.

"Demons," she hissed, noticing their black eyes before they changed to the colours of their human bodies.

"Get the girl," the female demon said. The male one stepped towards her and pulled Grace under his arm, gripping her tight as she squirmed and struggled.

She saw the woman push back the wardrobe with ease, and opened the door. She stepped inside to the bathroom where Sam was chained.

"Look at this," she said. "Someone trussed you up for us?"

"Leave him alone!" Grace yelled, elbowing the demon in the stomach. He grunted but didn't let go of her.

"The boss says we can't kill you," the woman continued. "I bet we can break off a few pieces."

Grace heard the snap of chains, and then someone being thrown against the bathroom wall.

Sam stepped out after throwing the woman into the table of the main room, a few feet away from Grace, and he grabbed a piece of glass from the broken table and stabbed her in the neck.

He leaned in to her neck, and started to draw out her blood with his lips. Grace froze in the other demon's arms.

"Get him off! Get him off!" the woman screamed.

The demon let go of Grace, and pushed her to one side of the room, where she hit the wall and then the floor with a thud. He then proceeded towards Sam, who now stocked up on demon blood, raised his hand to the demon and pushed him to the corner of the room using his psychic power.

"Wait your turn," Sam said menacingly to the demon.

Grace grunted as she tried to pick herself up from the floor, but froze in fear when she saw Sam drain both demons of their blood. He looked up at her when he'd finished, and he had blood dripping down his chin. Grace's face held an expression of pure horror.

"Grace," he said, almost apologetically.

"Don't," she said quietly, backing up against the wall. "Let's just go."

Sam used his newly found power to track down where the demons, and Famine, were; a restaurant on the outskirts of the town.

He hotwired a car outside, and they drove as fast as they could. Grace recognised Dean's Impala parked outside, but it was empty.

They ran inside, and Grace saw a group of suited up men holding Dean, who was talking to an old man in an electric chair.

"But you just keep fighting, just keep going through the motions," she heard Famine say to Dean. "You're not hungry, Dean, because inside, you're already dead."

"Let him go," Sam said loudly from beside Grace. Dean looked up at his brother, and saw the blood around his face.

Grace spotted Cas on the floor, eating raw red meat from a silver tray. She started to walk towards him, even though her mind kept screaming at herself to stop.

"Cas," she breathed. "Help,"

He looked up from the meat, and judging by his pained expression, used everything he had left to fight his hunger and drag his hand over to Grace's forehead to make her sleep. She fell to the ground.

Famine wheeled around, and looked up at Sam, who had now stepped forward in front of Grace.

"Sam," Famine said in a wheezy voice.

"Sammy, no," Dean pleaded.

The demons proceeded towards Sam, who tensed his muscles ready to fight.

"Stop! No one lays a finger on this sweet little boy," Famine ordered, and the demons froze. He then turned to Sam. "Sam, I see you got the snack I sent you."

"You sent?" Sam asked.

"Don't worry; you're not like everyone else. You'll never die from drinking too much. You're the exception that proves the rule, just the way Satan wanted you to be. So, _cut their throats_!"

Famine raised his arms and gestured the demons.

"Sammy, no!" Dean begged. Sam straightened himself up.

"Please, be my guest," Famine wheezed.

Sam raised his hands, and started to exorcize the demons. Dean took this as an opportunity and grabbed his knife. Sam smiled slightly at his power as the last demon fell to the ground.

"No," he said to Famine.

"Well," Famine replied, sounding disappointed. "Fine, if you don't want them, then _I'll_ have them."

He breathed in violently, and forced the demons down his throat.

Sam walked slowly towards the old man, and raised his right hand to him.

"I'm a horseman, Sam; your power doesn't work on me."

"You're right, but it will work on them," Sam said, and pulled his hand into a tight fist, the demon souls within Famine screeching, and Famine started gasping for breath.

Sam's nose started to bleed, but he kept on going, and after a few moments the demons exploded from Famine, and he stopped, panting heavily.

Dean stepped towards the dead body of Famine, and Castiel looked up, his hunger disappearing. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and then spotted Grace, laid on the ground before him in an awkward position.

"Grace," he breathed, dragging her limp body towards him.

He laid her head in his lap, and he placed his index and middle finger on her temple. She inhaled deeply and her eyes fluttered open.

"Cas?" she breathed. He nodded, and she sat up and looked at Sam and Dean, who were staring at each other in silence. Dean, with a look of pity and disappointment; Sam with a look of regret.

"You know we have to, Sam," Dean said to his brother.

"I know," he panted.

The four of them walked out of the restaurant, stepping over the dead bodies of demons and humans affected by Famine.

They climbed into the Impala; Dean driving, Sam had shotgun, and Castiel and Grace sat in the back.

After several hours of driving in silence, they arrived at Bobby's house. They stepped inside, and Bobby wheeled out from the kitchen. He sighed in relief.

"I heard you took on Famine," he said to Dean.

"How'd you-" Sam started to ask.

"Grace told me," Bobby said, cutting him off. The brothers looked at Grace.

"What?" she shrugged. "You guys never tell him anything!"

Dean sighed, and they took Sam down into the basement, and Sam stepped inside the panic room.

"I'm sorry, Sam," Grace told him. He nodded and sat down on the bed in the middle of the room.

A few hours later, Sam, Dean and Grace were still downstairs, listening to Sam begging ad pleading to be let out.

"Help! Help!" He groaned. "Dean! Cas, if you're out there, please help! Grace!"

Grace sighed, sliding down the wall so she was sat on the stone floor. Dean took a swig out of a bottle of whiskey as Sam continued to yell.

"That's not him in there," Castiel said to Dean. "Not really."

"Dean, help me," Sam pleaded.

"I know," Dean said, answering the angel and not his brother.

"Dean, Sam just has to get it out of his system, and then he'll-" Grace started, but Dean cut her off.

"Don't, I just-" he said quietly, and she nodded and fell silent. "Please!" Grace heard Sam yell.

"I need to get some air," Dean said at last, and walked away.

"Grace! I know you're there," Sam groaned. "Please…"

"I'm sorry, Sam," she whispered even though she knew he couldn't hear her. She stood up and followed Dean up the wooden stairs into the main house, leaving Cas downstairs alone.

Cas had been thinking about earlier, when Grace was under the influence of Famine. She didn't seem to remember it, or at least was trying her best not to, but Cas didn't know what she had been craving; she wasn't trying to get affection or love from just anyone; only Cas. He thought his mind may have been playing tricks on him; she only seemed like she wanted to kiss him when they were alone; maybe it was _him_ who had been craving affection, and it was making him hallucinate over what was just friendly behaviour.

One thing was for sure; Grace didn't want to talk about it; she'd been avoiding him since they got back, but he knew he _had_ to know.

Grace was in Bobby's kitchen alone, making her famous apple pie for Dean to cheer him up a little, and she had just finished making little holes in the pastry with a fork when Castiel walked in.

"Grace?" he asked.

"One second," she said while she put the apple pie in the oven. She shut the oven door and turned around to Cas, brushing off flour from her jeans. "Yeah?"

"Can we talk?" he asked. Grace noticed that something was on his mind.

"We're talking now," she pointed out. He nodded, looking down at his blue tie and fiddling around with the end. "What did you want to talk about?"

She jumped up onto the counter and sat on it with her legs hanging over the edge. She tapped the space next to her and gave Castiel a shy smile. He smiled back and joined her.

"It's about yesterday, when we went after Famine," he said a little nervously.

Grace nodded. "And you were wondering why I was acting so weirdly beforehand," she said with a sigh. She had been expecting this conversation ever since Sam had killed the horseman, yet she was glad they were alone when they were going to talk about it; she hated the idea of having to explain how Famine had affected her with Sam or Dean in the room. She blushed at the thought of it.

"Yes," Cas answered simply, and then he looked at her and frowned.

"What?"

He raised his index finger to her cheek. "Your face is very warm, and it's pinker than usual,"

That made her blush even more. "Um, yeah, I'm a little embarrassed," she said quietly, biting her bottom lip.

"About what?"

"About what happened; Famine affected be because I was apparently craving for you to have some feelings for me, like I did you, and this whole time I've been hiding how I felt, yet of course this horseman comes along and makes me throw myself at you, which turned out as badly as I thought it would!" she said, blushing furiously. She refused to meet his eyes, and she sighed. "Look, I know you don't feel the same way, I mean, you're an _angel_ for God's sake, and I'm just a human and I-"

Castiel silenced her by pressing his lips very softy upon hers, and she was too shocked to react at first, but after half a second she kissed him back very gently, and then pulled away.

She looked up at his blue eyes, and saw that they were fixed on hers.

"I have never done that before," he said quietly, not breaking his gaze.

"Really?" Grace asked, surprised. Their faces were still very close, and neither of them wanted to move. He nodded slightly.

"I had never met anyone, angel or not, that I felt attracted to. It was always just my love for my father and pure obedience," he said, and then smiled broadly.

"What?" Grace asked with a wide smile. She had never seen Castiel smile like that before, and it was so infectious she couldn't help but feel his joy.

"You were the first one who made me feel like I was important, did you know that?" he said, grinning from ear to ear. "Back when you took me to England."

"When I _made_ you take me to England," she corrected. He shook his head.

"But it wasn't like that; yes, you asked me to take you away from Bobby's house, but it was like," he said, and paused, trying to find the right word. "It was like you had transformed your breakout into a trip for me; to discover and, 'experience the world' as you had put it. You were the first person who treated me as an equal. Angels treated me like I was just a weapon or another 'good little soldier', demons treated me as their enemy, and even the Winchesters only called me when they needed my help."

"They're your friends, Cas," she warned, reminding him they didn't just use him as a tool.

"I know," he sighed. "But no one had ever called on me because they wanted to see or talk to me like you did."

She nodded. "I know what you mean,"

He took her hand into his own, and she looked up with him with a surprised frown.

"What?" he asked. "That's what humans do isn't it? When they like each other?"

She nodded with a shy smile, blushing again, and they sat next to each other holding hands in a comfortable silence until Bobby wheeled himself into the kitchen. Grace let go of Castiel's hand as a reflex; it wasn't that she was embarrassed to have feelings for him, but she didn't feel like telling everyone about it. She wanted to keep it between her and Cas, at least for a little while.

"Grace, can you come help me with something? I need a wire pulling out and you're the only one with hands slim enough to get it," he said.

Grace slid off the counter and turned to Castiel. She smiled at him and then followed where Bobby had gone.

He led her into the shed behind the house, and pointed to a tube in the wall, which had three wires twisting inside.

"I need the red one pulling out so I can strip it and attach another to it," Bobby explained. She put her hand in the tube, which was a tight squeeze, but she managed to wrap two fingers around the red wire, and pull it out gently. She handed the end of it to Bobby.

"Thanks, Grace," he smiled, and she walked back inside.

She went back to the kitchen, but Castiel had already gone. She didn't mind, though, she knew he would be back soon.

She grabbed the oven glove from a drawer, and pulled out the hot apple pie.

"Dean!" she shouted. "Get your ass in here!"

A few moments later, Dean ran in.

"What's wrong?" he asked, scanning the kitchen for God knows what. Grace laughed.

"Ta-dah!" she said with a grin, presenting him the apple pie.

She had never seen Dean look as happy as he did now.

"I love you," he said with a laugh, and leaned down to where the pie was on the table, smelling it. "That smells freakin' amazing!"

Grace laughed. "Don't eat the whole thing, though, there are other people in this house,"

"What's the occasion?" he asked. Grace didn't let her smile fade.

"I've finally got a functional oven and I'm not sick with worry about you, Sam or Cas,"

"Satan's still around, Grace, it's not over yet,"

Grace sighed. "I know, but I like to take life as it comes, and right now, my three boys are safe, the world isn't in immediate danger, and I'm _happy_,"

"Happy, are you?" Dean said with a wink, making her blush bright red. "An angel wouldn't have anything to do with that, would he?"

"Shut up," she hissed, hiding her face in her hands. Dean laughed and hugged her brotherly.

"It's okay, I'm not laughing at you for what happened with Famine, midget,"

She looked up with a scowl. "Midget? I'm not a midget!"

"Yes, you are!" he chuckled. "You're freakin' _tiny_!"

She smacked him playfully on the arm. "Fine, no apple pie for you,"

"No, no, no," he whined as she pretended to take the pie away from him. "Not the pie, what has it ever done to you?"

Grace giggled, and Bobby wheeled in. "What in God's name has gotten into you two? I've never heard you both so loud! Some of us are trying to save the world, you know."

"Sorry, Bobby," Grace chuckled. "I made an apple pie and we got a little excited about it,"

Bobby glanced over at the pie on the table, and Grace smiled and pulled a few plates out of the cupboard. She cut four slices, and put them onto their plates, handing two to Dean and Bobby. She glanced at the fourth piece on the table.

"I'm gonna take this down to Sam," she said, and Dean nodded slightly, his smile fading.

She got up and took Sam the slice of pie, and walked downstairs to the door of the panic room.

She slid open the window in the panic room's door, and glanced inside.

"Sam?" she called, and she saw him on the bed, awaken from his sleep.

"Grace?" he asked sleepily, opening his eyes into a squint.

"Yeah, I got you some pie if you want it,"

He sat up, and walked over to the door.

"Um," she muttered, just managing to slip the plate through the window. He took and placed it onto the bed.

"Are you okay?" she asked quietly. Dean had told her not to talk to him while he was locked in, as he wasn't really himself and he was unpredictable, but now he had stopped screaming for her, Dean or Cas, Grace just thought he looked sad.

"Do I look okay?" he asked her. She shook her head awkwardly.

"I'm sorry,"

"Sorry for what? Locking me in here while you, Dean and Cas have a merry old time upstairs? I bet you haven't even given me a second's thought," he spat, and Grace flinched.

"This isn't you talking," Grace started to say, more to convince herself than him.

"Yes it is, Grace, you _know_ it is," Sam said, raising his voice. "You've read the books; you _know_ how it is when I drink demon blood; I finally feel like myself! I don't have to try to stop being a freak, because I finally accept who I really am!"

"Sam, stop," she said, her voice breaking slightly.

"_Sam, stop_," he mimicked cruelly. "You're so pathetic, Grace, you try to act all brave like all your favourite characters, but you know inside that you could _never_ be like them. You know that you'd be the one hiding behind the wall instead of risking getting yourself hurt; it's who you _are_!"

She felt the hot tears welling in her eyes, and she turned away from Sam to see Castiel, watching her with a frown on his face. She buried her face into his shoulder, her tears dampening his trench coat, and after a slight hesitation where he had been taken aback, he wrapped his arm around her and took her upstairs away from Sam.

He had taken her to the bedroom she had been using in Bobby's house, and it was quieter than the rest of the house where Dean and Bobby were.

She had stopped crying, but Castiel didn't let her go; he liked the feeling of having her in his arms, as it made him feel needed, like she needed him to protect her.

She sniffled and exhaled a raggedy breath, and pulled away from him.

"Sorry," she muttered, wiping her eyes.

"What for?" he asked, and she pointed to the tear stains on his coat. He smiled sadly.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"I'm fine," she said. "Just a little tired, I guess."

"When was the last time you slept?"

"Uh, three days ago?"

"You just get some sleep, Grace,"

"Probably," she said with a slight yawn. "I'm just gonna get dressed."

She pulled out an old t-shirt of Deans that he had given her and her pyjama bottoms out of her drawer, and walked out into the hallway, and into the bathroom. She changed her clothes and brushed her teeth, and then went back into her bedroom. Castiel was stood at her dressing table, looking at a collection of framed photographs.

"That's my mum," she said as he picked up one of her and her mother sitting outside their house in the garden. It had been her mother's thirty-fourth birthday when it had been taken, and Grace was only ten.

"You look like her," Cas said, putting it back down.

Grace smiled. "So I've been told."

"Do you miss her?"

"Every day," she answered as she walked over to her bed and crawled under the covers. "Um, Cas?"

"Yes?"

"Can you, um, can you hold me? I just, I dunno-" she asked nervously. She was glad it was dark because her face felt like it had gone scarlet.

Castiel walked over, and lay down on the bed. Grace had expected him to be a little awkward about it, but he lay down next to her, wrapping his arms around her as she snuggled up to his side.

"Sorry for being needy or pathetic and-" she started, feeling embarrassed for asking.

"You're not pathetic, Grace," he murmured, kissing her forehead. "Go to sleep."


	14. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve:**

Grace awoke roughly thirty-six hours later and she turned over, half asleep, and opened one eye. Cas had gone. She sighed and sat up, noticing a folded piece of paper on her dressing table with 'Grace' written on it.

She smiled and swung her legs over the side of her bed, and shuffled sleepily to the note, opening it up.

_I've left to look for God with Dean's amulet, which should light up when I find him, sorry I didn't get to say goodbye; I didn't want to wake you_

_If it's any consolation, I did hold you all night like you asked me too_

_Cas_

She placed the note back on her dressing table, and walked downstairs, not bothering to get dressed.

"Dean?" she called, looking around the house. "Bobby?"

There was no answer, so Grace padded into the kitchen, pouring herself a bowl of cereal.

She was halfway through her breakfast when she saw her phone on the kitchen counter next to the sink. She got up and walked over to it, taking the bowl of cereal with her, and saw that she had a text from Dean.

_Sam and I have gone hunting, we think it's a ghost so we'll be back by tomorrow but you'll probably still be asleep._

_P.S. you snore when you sleep, did you know that?_

Grace rolled her eyes and was about to put her phone in a pocket that didn't exist; she was still in her pyjamas. She sighed and put it on the kitchen table while she finished her cereal. She then had an odd feeling in her stomach, like she thought something was wrong but she couldn't put her finger on it.

She checked the date of Dean's text, and realised he had sent it over a day ago, and yet he and Sam were still gone.

"Ah, crap," she muttered to herself, and ran upstairs to get dressed.

She pulled on her trench coat over a pair of jeans and a jumper, and sighed.

"Cas? I know you're looking for God and whatnot, but, uh, Dean and Sam are missing," she said.

She looked around the room, and saw Castiel stood behind her.

"Do you know where they went?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Dean said he went hunting, but I don't know where,"

He nodded, and held out his arm. She took it, and they disappeared and reappeared inside a motel room. Sam and Dean were laid on two single beds, covered in blood.

"Oh my god!" she gasped, rushing over to them and checking for any sign of a pulse in the brothers. She couldn't feel one.

"Cas, can you bring them back?" she cried.

"They're in heaven," he said. "Zachariah will be looking for them; Dean can't say yes to Michael if he's dead. He will want to bring Dean back into his body."

"Well, that's good, isn't it?"

"I can't get into heaven, Grace," he said. "They can find Joshua."

"Who's-"

"Joshua is the angel who can talk to God. He may know if God has anything to say about the apocalypse."

Grace sighed. "Okay, but is there any way we can talk to them? I mean, I don't think they're gonna just _stumble_ upon this Joshua guy,"

Castiel nodded. "There is a spell, but it's not an easy one,"

"What does it need?" Grace asked immediately.

"Well, for one, it needs a lot of human blood."

Castiel had drawn up an unusual symbol onto the carpet using salt. He muttered something in a language Grace assumed was Enochian, and he nodded to Grace.

"It's working. Are you sure you want to do this? We can get blood from a hospital," he said to her.

"There isn't enough time," Grace answered. The spell required a constant supply of human blood being poured into the gold bowl Cas had, and the angel wasn't fully supportive of draining Grace of her blood when there was an alternative option.

He sighed, and turned to the bowl that Grace was now cutting the meaty part of her thumb over. "Dean?" he called.

"_Cas?"_

"Yeah, it's me,"

"_You gotta stop poking around in my dreams. I need some me time,"_

"Dean, shut up for a sec," Grace said.

"Listen to me very closely," Cas said. "This isn't a dream."

"_Then what is it?"_

"Deep down, you already know,"

"_I'm dead_," Dean realised.

"Condolences," Grace and Cas said at the same time.

"_Where am I?"_

"Heaven," Grace explained.

"_Heaven? How did I get to heaven?"_

"Please, listen," Cas said, knowing he didn't have long. "This spell, this connection, it's difficult to maintain. Grace is draining herself of blood for it."

"_Grace? What are you-"_

"Shut up, Dean! I'm fine!" Grace protested.

"_Wait, if I'm in heaven, then where's Sam?"_

"What do you see?" Cas asked him.

"_What do you mean 'what do I see'?"_

"Some people see a tunnel or a river. What do you see?"

"_Nothing. My dash, I'm in my car, I'm on a road,"_

"Alright, a road; for you it's a road. Follow it, Dean. You'll find Sam. Follow the road,"

Grace's thumb stopped bleeding, and Castiel looked up to see what was wrong. Grace, still holding her hand out but away from the bowl, looked as if she were about to faint and her eyes were rolling back.

"Grace!" Castiel said, and caught her in his arms as she started to fall.

"W-what?" she muttered, her eyes starting to focus. "Ah, crap, did I cut off the spell thingy? I'm okay now, I'll use my other hand,"

"No, Grace, you've done enough," Cas said firmly. She was about to protest but he had already vanished. Grace groaned, and rested her head in her hands, still feeling a little lightheaded.

Castiel returned a few minutes later with two bags of blood stuffed in his coat pockets.

"Cas," she whined. "You didn't have to, I'm _fine_,"

"Grace, have you seen how pale you are?" he asked, ripping open one of the plastic pouches.

"I'm always pale," she grumbled.

"_Cas!"_ Grace heard Dean's voice shouting.

"I can hear you," Castiel answered.

"_Cas, hey, I, uh, I found Sam, but something just happened. There was this weird beam of light-"_

"Don't go into the light," Cas said sharply.

"_Okay, thanks, Carol Anne_. _What was it?_"

"Not what, who. Zachariah. He's searching for you,"

"_And if he finds us?"_ Grace heard Sam say.

"You can't say yes to Michael and Lucifer if you're dead," Grace explained.

"So Zachariah needs to return you to your bodies," Cas finished.

"_Great, problem solved_," Sam said.

"That's what I thought," Grace muttered.

"No, you don't understand," Cas said, ignoring Grace's comment. "You're behind the wall. This is a rare opportunity,"

"_For what?"_ asked Dean.

"Find an angel. His name is Joshua,"

"_Hey, man, no offense, but we're kind of ass-full of angels, okay, you find him,"_ Dean's voice said, making Grace chuckle.

"I can't," Cas snapped. "I can't return to heaven."

"_So what's so important about Joshua_?" Sam asked.

"He can talk to God, apparently," Grace said.

"_And, so?"_ said Dean.

"You think maybe, just maybe, we should find out what the hell God has been saying? Please, I just need you to follow the road,"

"_What road?"_

"It's called the Axis Mundi, a path that runs through heaven. People see it as different things. For you, it's two lane asphalt. The road will lead you to the garden. You'll find Joshua there. And Joshua can take us to God," Cas said. "Find the garden, and please, hurry."

The pouch ran out, but there wasn't much point in opening the second as they had already passed the message to Sam and Dean. Grace just hoped that Dean was prepared to find Joshua, as he never seemed to be on God's side before.

Almost an hour later, Sam leapt up from his bed, gasping for breath. Dean did the same a second or two later. They were both still covered in their own blood, but they were alive.

"Oh my God, you're okay!" Grace cried, hugging Sam and Dean tightly. "Are you alright?"

Sam nodded, breathing heavily.

"Define 'all right'," Dean answered, panting. Sam sighed, looking at the blood on his shirt.

"What did Joshua say?" Cas asked Dean.

"Sorry, man, apparently God doesn't care," Dean sighed.

"What were his exact words?" Cas asked firmly.

Dean sighed. "Joshua said God had a message for us: 'back off'."

"What?" Grace asked. This didn't sound like the God she used to pray to when she was a kid. She used to pray every night for one of his angels to make all the people who bullied her at school stop, and to become her friend. He had answered; only he was fourteen years late.

"Joshua said that God knew already," Dean said. "Everything we wanted to tell Him. He knows that the angels are doing and that the apocalypse has begun, but that, and I quote, 'he doesn't think it's his problem'."

"Oh," was all Grace said. She glanced over at Cas, who was staring down at the ground.

"Maybe, maybe Joshua was lying," he started to say. Grace walked over to him, put her hand in his and squeezed. She knew he probably didn't know what she was doing, but she hoped it was comforting nevertheless. Surprisingly, he smiled down at her and squeezed back.

"I don't think he was, Cas, I'm sorry," Sam sighed. He and Dean were packing up their bags from the hunt they went on the night before.

Cas let go of Grace's hand, and took a step backwards. He turned away from them all, and looked up to the ceiling.

"You son of a bitch," he muttered, and Grace smiled sadly.

"I believed in-" Cas continued, but stopped midsentence.

He turned back to the brothers, and pulled Dean's necklace from his coat pocket. He threw it back to him, saying "I don't need it anymore. It's worthless," and disappeared, despite Sam trying to persuade him to wait.

Grace's heart broke; Castiel had always been the 'good little soldier' to his father, and even after he fell from heaven, he still believed that his father could help. Now he knew God didn't even care.

"We'll find another way," Sam said, throwing his bag onto his bed. "We can still stop all this."

"How?" Dean asked.

"I don't know, but we'll find it. You, me and Grace. We'll find it."

Dean didn't say anything, but picked up his bag and walked to the door. He dropped his necklace in the bin next to the door.

"Come on," he said. "Grace we'll take you back to Bobby's."


	15. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen:**

Dean quickly opened one of the backseat doors of the Impala with one hand, and helped Grace clamber inside ungracefully. She had badly wounded her leg, and could barely lean on it.

Dean jumped in and started the engine. "Get in!" he yelled to his brother, who was running up towards the car, clasping his arm which was also bleeding. "Quick!"

Sam swung open the passenger door and was barely inside when Dean started driving, accelerating to ninety miles an hour.

"How are you holding up, Grace?" Dean called over his shoulder.

"I'll live, I hope," she called back from the backseat. She had her wounded leg extended over the seats and she was grabbing hold of the car door and Sam's seat to hold on as Dean swerved around the sharp corners of the track.

Sam looked over his shoulder and saw the demons in their stolen van following them, catching up.

"Drive faster, Dean," he said, keeping pressure on his arm.

"I can't," Dean snapped, and Sam gasped in pain. "Are you okay?"

"I'm amazing," he groaned sarcastically.

"Have you ever seen that many?" Dean asked, looking over his shoulder for a second.

"No way," Sam answered. "Not in one place."

"What the hell!" Dean yelled, and he swerving around a tight corner, headed straight towards a burning gateway. He jumped on the brakes, and the car skidded to a halt.

"Damn it!" Sam cursed.

Dean started to reverse the Impala, but two demons smashed open their windows and tried to pull them out of the car by their necks. Another managed to drag Grace out of the car by grabbing hold of her waist and pulling.

All of a sudden, cold water drenched her and the demons screamed in pain, backing away from her and the Winchesters, trying to cover their faces from the water.

Grace turned around to see a red pick-up truck with symbols painted on, and a fire-engine hose shooting the water at the demons. Judging by the way the demons reacted to the water; Grace assumed it had been blessed.

Someone in the pick-up truck climbed out with a megaphone, and started speaking in Enochian, and the demons were forced out of their human suits, and disappeared. Grace exhaled in relief, and leant back against the door of the Impala. She noticed that the parts of her clothes that weren't shielded by her trench coat clung to her petite body.

Panting, Sam and Dean turned to look at the red truck that saved them.

"Well," Dean breathed. "That's something you don't see every day."

They climbed out of the car, and Dean picked up Grace into his arms.

"You don't need to carry me, Dean," she sighed. "I _can_ walk, just not well."

"It's faster if I carry you, midget,"

"I'm not a midget!" she protested, which only made him laugh.

"Sure you're not," he chuckled.

"You three all right?" a man from the truck said, walking over towards them.

"Peachy," Dean answered.

"Be careful, it's dangerous around here," the man said, and turned around back to his truck.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait!" Dean started, about to run after the guy but remembered he was still holding Grace.

"No need to thank us," the man called back.

"No, hold up a sec," said Dean. "Who are you?"

"My name's Rob. We're the Sacrament Lutheran Militia," he said, turning back to them.

"That's a mouthful," Grace muttered as Dean put her back on her feet. She still leaned on his arm for support.

"I'm sorry, the what?" Dean asked.

"I hate to tell you this, but those were demons and this is the Apocalypse. So, buckle up,"

Sam raised an eyebrow.

"You don't say?" Grace said, and Dean showed the three men from the red truck of the Sacrament Lutheran Militia the boot, or 'trunk' as Dean called it, of the Impala.

"Looks like we're in the same line of business," Sam said.

"Yeah, and among colleagues," Dean added. He noticed the weapons the men were holding. "That's a police-issued shotgun. That truck is, uh, inspired. Where did you guys pick up all this crap?"

"You know, you pick things up along the way," one of the men said.

"Guys, well, this whole corner of the state is nuts with demon omens. We just wanna help that's all,"

"We're on the same team here," Sam said, chipping in.

"Yep, Team Anti-Apocalypse," Grace sung. "Just talk to us."

The two men turned to Rob, who seemed to be their leader, and he nodded. "Follow us," he said.

Sam, Dean and Grace climbed back into the Impala and followed the red truck down a very long, unchanging road. Grace watched the sunrise out of the backseat window, and then they reached an old, white church, which had been built around with barbed wire, chain-link fences and men carrying rifles and shotguns.

Grace, with the help of Sam, stepped out, and limped inside the church after Rob and the other men, stepping over a devil's trap painted in red to get through into the church gates.

She stepped inside the warm building, and people were filling the church's pews, watching what Grace recognised to be a wedding. She had only ever been to one wedding in her life; her cousin's, but she had only been nine years old so she didn't remember much of it.

"Who would have thought the Apocalypse could be so romantic?" the church's vicar said from the front. "Marriage, family, it's a blessing, especially in times like this. So hold on to them."

"Wedding? Seriously?" Sam scoffed under his breath to Dean.

"Yeah," a man said. Grace recognised to be one of the men from the red truck. "We've had eight so far this week."

"I guess it keeps people's spirits up," Grace shrugged, though she thought _eight_ was a little excessive.

At the end of the ceremony, Grace and the brothers followed the crowd outside, and stood by the entrance of the church. The church's vicar approached them.

"So Rob tells me you three hunt demons," he said.

"Uh, yes, sir," Sam answered.

"_I don't, I'm just a tag along_," Grace thought, but what came out was "Among other things".

"You missed a few," the vicar said with a smile. Sam laughed politely.

"Yeah, tell us about it. Any idea why they're here?" he asked.

The vicar shook his head. "Sure seem to like us, though. Follow me,"

The three of them followed the vicar into the church and down a narrow staircase. Grace had to take each step one at a time due to her leg, but she managed to keep up with the help of the banister.

"So you're a preacher, huh?" Dean asked, raising his eyebrow at the man.

"Not what you were expecting?" he answered. "I'm David Gideon."

He opened the doors to the basement, which was a well-lit room with tables of machinery Grace recognised to be used to manufacture bullets. The room was fairly crowded with people, all chattering as if the Apocalypse wasn't something new to them.

Other tables were filled with large plastic containers holding holy water, shotguns and bags of salt.

"Is that a twelve year old packing salt rounds?" Dean asked Gideon after noticing a girl with dark brown pigtails at one of the tables.

"Everybody pitches in," Gideon explained.

"The whole church?" asked Sam.

"The whole town,"

"A whole town full of hunters," Dean remarked. "I don't' know whether to run screaming or buy a condo."

"Demons were killing us, we had to do something," Gideon said.

"So why not call the National Guard?" asked Sam.

"We were told not to,"

"By who?" Sam and Grace asked in sync.

Gideon didn't answer.

"Come on, padre, you're as locked and loaded as we've ever seen," Dean said, trying to encourage the vicar to explain who the town was receiving orders from. "And that exorcism was Enochian. Someone was telling you something."

"Look, I'm sorry," Gideon started, shaking his head. "I can't discuss it."

"Dad, it's okay," a voice said from behind them. Grace turned to see a young, attractive girl in a blue shirt and cardigan, stood behind them.

"Leah," Gideon said warningly.

"It's Sam and Dean Winchester," Leah said. "They're safe. I know all about them."

"You do?" Dean asked her, taken aback.

"Sure," Leah said cheerfully. "From the angels."

"Angels. Awesome," Dean replied. Grace elbowed him.

"_They're not all bad_," she thought.

"Don't worry, they can't see you here," Leah said with a smile. "The marks on your ribs, right?"

"So, you know all about us," Sam said, gesturing Dean, Grace and himself. "Because angels told you?"

"Among other things."

"Like the snappy little exorcism spell," said Dean.

"And they show me where the demons are gonna be before it happens, and how to fight back," Leah said.

"She's never been wrong," Gideon said proudly. "Not once. She's very special."

"She's a prophet?" Grace muttered to Dean. He nodded.

"And let me guess, before you see something, you get a really bad migraine and see flashing lights?" he asked Leah.

"How'd you know?"

"You're not the first prophet we've met," Grace said.

"But you are the cutest," Dean said with a flirty smile. Leah smiled and blushed slightly.

"I mean that with total respect, of course," Dean said to Gideon when he noticed the hard glare sent his way.

Later that evening, Grace, Sam and Dean headed over to the town's local bar, but Grace stayed outside. She pulled out her phone from her trench coat's pocket, and called Castiel.

"_You've reached the voice mail of_," a pre-recorded female's voice said from the phone. Cas's voice came after. "_I don't understand. Why do you want me to say my name?_"

Grace smiled at how little Cas knew about the things she'd known all her life. "Uh, hey, Cas, it's me, I know you're probably busy, but I'm in Blue Earth, Minnesota with Sam and Dean; we could use your help, we think we've met another prophet," she said to the answer machine. She exhaled. "And I miss you."

She sighed and put her phone away again, limping inside the bar up to where Sam was stood talking to the bartender.

"Since the end started," the guy was saying to Sam while pouring him a drink. "It's like one long last call. That round's on me."

"Thanks," Sam said, and caught sight of Grace in the corner of his eye.

"Hey, you okay?" he asked her.

She nodded. "Yeah, just gave Cas a call, I mentioned Leah and said we could use a little help,"

"Did he answer?"

"Nope. Where's Dean?"

Sam pointed to a small table a few yards away, and Grace nodded. She called over the bartender while he walked to Dean's table.

"For a pretty girl like you, it's on me," he said when she ordered a coca cola.

"Thanks," she said, blushing, and then joined the brothers. She then noticed his name badge read 'Dylan'. "Dylan? I didn't know you worked in a bar; doesn't your mother consider alcohol as a sin?"

"Yeah," he laughed. "But she just thinks it's a job, I told her I didn't drink."

Grace smiled. "So you don't think getting drunk is a sin?"

"I don't know, I mean, I'm still religious, but I don't want it to rule my life," he said with a shrug.

"That's pretty wise for a guy your age," she said. "Anyway, I'm gonna let you work, now,"

Grace stood up and limbed over to the table where Dean and Sam were sat.

"Why're you all red?" Dean asked her.

"Doesn't matter," she shrugged. "Crappy complexion."

"So, what's your theory?" Sam asked Dean. "Why all the demon hits?"

"I dunno," Dean replied. "To gank the girl prophet, maybe?"

Sam sighed, shaking his head.

"What?" Dean asked him.

"Just, these angels are sending these people to do their dirty work," Sam said.

"Yeah, and?"

"And they could get ripped to shreds,"

"We're all gonna die, Sam, soon. In a month, maybe two. I mean it; you know, this is the end of the world. But these people aren't freaking out. In fact they're running to the exits in a orderly fashion. I don't know that that's such a bad thing,"

"Who says they're all gonna die?" Sam asked Dean. "Whatever happened to us saving them?"

All of a sudden, the church bell started ringing, and everyone got up and left the bar.

"Something I said?" asked Dean, and Sam called over the bartender, Paul, and asked what was going on.

"Leah's had another vision," Paul explained.

"Wanna go to church?" Grace asked the brothers.

"You know me," Dean said. "Downright pious."


	16. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen:**

The whole town crammed inside the church, and David Gideon, the vicar, was stood at the front with his daughter, Leah.

"Three miles off Talmadge Road," he said, and then Leah then whispered something in his ear. "Five miles," he corrected himself. "The demons gathered, I don't know how many, but a lot. Thank you, Leah."

Leah sat down on the first row of pews, and smiled up at her father.

"So, who's gonna join me?" Gideon asked the church.

Several hands went up.

"Wouldn't miss it," Rob, the leader of the town, said.

"Someone's gotta cover Rob's ass," Paul said, raising his own hand.

Dean raised his hand. "We're in, Padre," he said, and Grace and Sam nodded.

"Thank you," Gideon said. "I'd like to offer a prayer. Our father in heaven,"

"Yeah, not so much," Dean muttered, and Grace smiled grimly.

"Help us to fight in your name," Gideon continued. "We ask that you protect us from all servants of evil, and guide our hands into defeating them, and deliver us home safely. Thank you, Amen."

A few moments later, most of the people had left the church, and the only ones still inside were those who had volunteered to go after the demons.

"Okay, let's head down to the basement. Everyone, remember: salt rounds, shotguns, and holy water," Gideon said.

Grace turned to the brothers. "Are we gonna use their stuff or are we going back to the car?"

"You're not going anywhere, Grace," Dean said. "Not with that leg."

"What? I'm fine!"

"You can't even _walk_ normally," Sam said sternly.

Grace groaned. "You can't just leave me here!" she protested.

"Yes, we can," Dean said, and he and Sam left the church with the others, leaving Grace leant against a wooden pew in the church. She sighed.

Several hours later, Grace was in the bar when she heard the sounds of car engines. She limped outside, and saw Rob's red truck and the Impala driving down. As Dean and Sam stepped outside of the car, she noticed something was very wrong.

Two of the men lifted a body from the backseat of the truck, and Grace recognised it to be Dylan's.

"No," she gasped.

"_He was just a kid,_" she thought.

She turned to the brothers who had spotted her and walked over. "What happened?" she asked Sam.

"We killed all the demons in the house, but one of them was hiding under the Impala and it got Dylan," Sam said sadly. Dean still looked mortified.

Everyone was gathering in the church again for Dylan's funeral a few hours later, and Grace, Sam and Dean were stood outside, not wanting to intrude on the service. Jane, Dylan's mother, and Rob walked through into the church passed the three of them. Jane had been crying, and her mascara was running down her cheeks.

"We're just, um, we're very sorry," Dean said to Jane.

"You know, this is your fault," Jane said.

"Jane," Rob said warningly. "Come on."

The two of them walked inside, and Grace glanced at Dean, who looked even guiltier than he did before.

"Dean," she said quietly. "It's not your fault."

"Yes, it is," he said, meeting her eyes. "He was on my watch, and he- _he was just a kid_,"

Grace didn't answer. She knew that Dean would never forgive himself for what happened; he never did, no matter how much people tried to help.

Grace could hear Gideon speaking to the church, about how he "didn't have any easy answers" to explain why Dylan died. All of a sudden, Leah fell from her seat to the floor in the gangway.

"Leah, honey?" Gideon called, rushing over to his daughter, who looked like she was having a seizure. Grace, Dean and Sam rushed inside.

"Honey, it's okay," Gideon said to her soothingly. "It's okay."

"Dad, it's Dylan," she said, panting.

"No, just rest a minute," Gideon soothed.

"No, this- Dylan's coming back,"

People in the church started to murmur, and Grace noticed Jane looking to where Leah was laid.

Leah stood up where her father was earlier, and she addressed Dylan's parents.

"Jane, Rob, it's going to be okay," she said with a kind smile. "You'll see Dylan again. When the final day comes, Judgement Day, he'll be resurrected and you'll be together again. We'll all be together, with all our loved ones. We've been chosen. The angels have chosen us. And we will be given paradise on Earth. All we have to do is follow the angel's commandments."

"No drinking, no gambling, no premarital sex?" Sam said, listing the angel's commandments. "Dean, they basically just outlawed ninety per cent of your personality."

"Well, whatever; _When in Rome_,"

"You're cool with it?" Grace asked, raising her eyebrow.

"I'm not cool, I'm not _not_ cool, I'm-" he said. "Look, I'm not a prophet, we're not locals… It's not my call."

Sam nodded, looking a little suspicious.

"I'll catch up with you, guys," Dean then said, and walked back into the church.

Sam sighed, staring after Dean. He turned to Grace.

"Well, we might as well get a drink," he said, holding out his arm for her to lean on. She took it, letting him lead her to the town's bar.

They walked in, and Paul was cleaning the wooden counter.

"So, what happened to 'the Apocalypse is good for business'?" Sam asked, noticing the bar was empty.

"Yeah," Paul sighed. "Right up until Leah's angel pals banned the good stuff. Help me kill some inventory?"

"Sure," Sam said.

"Don't get me wrong; I grew up here, I love this town," Paul said, pouring them both drinks. "But these holy rollers…"

"Yeah," Grace sighed. "It's a little overwhelming."

"I noticed you're not the praying type," Sam pointed out. Paul nodded.

"Well, between the three of us, neither are half those guys. Couple of months back, they're all in here, getting wasted, banging the nanny. Now they're all warriors of God," he said, and held out his drink. "Cheers."

Grace clinked her glass with Pauls, and downed the shot with a grimace.

"Look, there's sure as hell demons, and maybe there is a God, I don't know, fine, but I'm not a hypocrite, never prayed before; ain't starting now. If I go to hell, I'm going honest,"

Sam smiled.

"How about you?" Paul asked him.

"What about me?" Sam asked.

"Not a true believer, I take it,"

"I believe, yeah, I do. I'm just pretty sure God stopped caring a long time ago,"

"Cheers to that," Grace said darkly. Paul poured them all another drink.

Grace leant on Sam as he helped her inside the motel room they were staying in, which was a few miles south of the town.

"Where you been?" Dean asked from his bed, his eyes closed.

"Drinking," Sam said, helping Grace onto her own. She giggled.

"Rebels," Dean chuckled, and then saw Grace playing with the edge of her duvet cover. "Are you drunk?"

She laughed loudly, confirming the answer. "Nope," she lied.

"I'd have had more, but it was curfew," Sam said. "But Grace is too lightweight to wait for curfew; she only had a couple of pints and a few shots before she was completely out of it."

"You're just jealous," she said, slurring her words. "That it's cheaper for me to get wasted."

"Hear they shut down the cell towers?" Sam asked Dean.

"No, that's news to me,"

"Yeah, no cable, internet, a total cut-off from the 'corruption of the outside world',"

"Hmm," was all Dean responded.

"Don't you get it?" Sam frowned. "They're turning this place into some fundamentalist compound."

"No, I get it,"

"And all you got is a 'hmm'? What's wrong with you?"

"I get it, I just don't care," Dean sighed.

Grace frowned. "Now you sound like God," she muttered.

"What difference does it make?" Dean shrugged.

"It makes a hell of a-" Sam started, and then scoffed. "At what point does this become too far for you? Stoning? Poisoned Kool-Aid? The angels are _toying_ with these people."

"Angel world, angel rules, man,"

"And since when is that _okay_ with you?"

"Since the angels got the only lifeboats on the Titanic," Dean sighed. "And who exactly is supposed to come along and save these people? It was supposed to be us, but we can't do it."

"So, what? You want to just stop fighting? Roll over?"

"I don't know, maybe,"

"Don't say that," Grace said quietly.

"Why not?" Dean snapped.

"Because you're a fighter, Dean. You always have been, always will. You won't just _give up_ because it's harder than you thought it would be," Grace said as firmly as she could muster without slurring her words. "This is the _Apocalypse_, Dean; it was never going to be easy. You _knew_ that."

"I got one thing, Dean," Sam said to his brother. "One thing that's keeping me going. You think you're the only one white-knuckling here? I can't count on anyone else but you or Grace or Cas. And we can't do this alone."

Dean picked up his jacket from the chair, and stepped towards the door.

"Dean?" Grace asked.

"I gotta clear my head," Dean said.

"It's past curfew," Sam pointed out, but Dean ignored him and walked out the door.

Grace sighed and lay back onto the bed, closing her eyes. She heard Sam moving around the room, tidying up or shuffling through his things. She couldn't tell which.

"I got your message, Grace," she heard Castiel's voice. She opened her eyes and saw him standing at the other side of the room.

"Cas," Sam said, looking up.

"It was long, your message," Cas continued to Grace, and Sam noticed his words were slurred. "And I find the sound of your voice… mesmerising. Did you know, no one else has your voice? It's unique."

"What's wrong with you?" Sam asked him. "Are you… drunk?"

Grace grinned; glad she wasn't the only one.

"No!" Castiel answered, but as he took a step towards Grace he stumbled slightly. "Yes."

Grace giggled, and he smiled broadly at her. She patted the space next to her, and he fell down onto her bed.

"Oh, God," Sam muttered. "Two drunk lovebirds in one room."

Sam groaned and turned to Cas. "What the hell happened to you?"

"I found a liquor store," he answered, staring into Grace's eyes without blinking.

"And?"

"And I drank it,"

"All of it?" Grace gasped, a little impressed. "The whole store?"

Castiel nodded, and smiled lazily at her expression.

"Are you okay?"

Cas took his eyes of Grace and looked at Sam, gesturing him forwards. Sam, frowning, walked over towards Castiel.

"Don't ask stupid questions," the angel muttered into his ear, and Grace laughed loudly.

Sam sighed. "There's been these demon attacks, massive, on the edge of town. We can't figure out why."

"Did you really miss me?" Cas asked Grace remembering what she said over the phone.

Grace nodded. "I always do," she told him. Cas grinned.

Sam coughed, and then Castiel sighed.

"Any signs of angels?" he asked Sam with an irritated tone.

"Sort of. They've been speaking to this prophet,"

"Who?"

"Leah Gideon," Grace said.

"She's not a prophet," Cas slurred. Grace smiled.

"Why are you smiling?" he whispered into her ear.

"You're funny when you're drunk," she whispered back excitedly. "It makes me laugh."

"I should get drunk more often," he said, and she giggled like a five year old.

"I'm pretty sure she is," Sam said, wishing Castiel would sober up. "The visions, headaches, the whole package."

"The names of _all_ the prophets, they're seared into my brain," Castiel said, looking up at the ceiling.

"Does that hurt?" Grace asked him.

He shook his head and turned to Sam. "Leah Gideon is not one of them."

"Then what the hell is she?" Grace asked.


	17. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen:**

Grace, now sobered up, was pulling on her trench coat when Dean arrived back at the motel.

"Oh," Grace sighed, pulling it off again. "We were just about to go looking for you."

"Why?" Dean asked.

"Well," Sam started, and then saw the blood on Dean's hands. "You alright?"

"Yeah, it's not my blood," Dean said grimly. "Paul's dead."

"What?' Sam and Grace gasped in shock.

"Jane shot him," Dean explained.

"It's starting," Cas said, still drunk.

"What's starting? Where the hell have you been?" Dean asked.

"Dean," Grace said warningly.

"On a bender," Cas said. Grace would've laughed if they weren't in a town where a prophet who's not a prophet is telling a town what to do because 'the angels instructed it'.

"Did you just say 'on a bender'?" Dean asked. He turned to Grace. "Did he say he was on a bender?"

"Yeah," Grace sighed.

"He's still pretty smashed," Sam sighed.

"It is not of importance," Castiel said huskily. He grabbed hold of Grace's hand and pulled her next to him. She broke out a smile. "We need to talk about what's happening here."

"I'm all ears," Dean muttered, thinking of how Jane had killed Paul.

"Well, for starters, Leah is not a real prophet," Sam said.

"Well, what is she exactly?" Dean asked as he was washing his hands in the bathroom sink.

"The Whore," Cas said.

"Wow, Cas, tell us what you really think," said Dean.

Grace sighed. "Not just a whore, _The_ Whore, of Babylon," she said, repeating what Castiel had told her and Sam.

"She rises when Lucifer walks the Earth," Cas said. He looked down at The Book of Revelations Sam had taken out of the town library earlier that day. "_And she shall come bearing false prophecy_. This creature has the power to take a human's form, read minds. Revelations calls her the Whore of Babylon."

"That's catchy," Dean muttered.

"The real Leah was killed months ago," Sam said.

"What about the demons attacking the town?" Dean asked.

"They're under her control," Castiel said.

"But she's telling the people where they are? She's killing them?" Grace asked. "The Enochian exorcism?"

"It's fake. It actually means, 'you breed with the mouth of a goat'," Cas laughed. When no one else did, he looked around at the others. "It's funnier in Enochian."

"So the demons smoking out, that's just a con?" Dean asked. "Why? What's the end game?"

"What you just saw; innocent blood spilled in God's name," Cas said.

"You heard all that heaven talk," Sam said. "She manipulates people."

"To slaughter and kill and sing peppy little hymns," Dean muttered.

"Her goal is to condemn as many souls as possible," said Cas. "And it's just beginning. She's well on her way to dragging this whole town into the pit."

"Well, we have to stop her! Can she be killed?" Grace asked the angel.

He looked at her and then disappeared. Grace fell down onto the sofa now Cas's knees weren't supporting her, and Dean chuckled.

Cas appeared a few moments later, and dropped an old looking stick onto the table. It had been carved into a sharp point at one end.

"The Whore can be killed with that," he said tiredly, and then sat down next to Grace. "It's a stake made from a cypress tree in Babylon."

"Great, let's ventilate her," Dean said enthusiastically.

"It's not that easy," Castiel said.

"Of course not," Dean sighed.

"The whore can only be killed by a true servant of heaven,"

"Servant like-?"

"Not you," Cas said shortly. "Or Grace, or me, and Sam, of course, is an abomination."

Grace choked down a laugh at '_Sam, of course, is an abomination_'.

"We'll have to find someone else," Cas sighed.

"Gideon," Grace murmured.

"What?" Dean asked.

"David Gideon, the vicar, or preacher as you called him," she said, and turned to Castiel. "He's a true servant of heaven, isn't he?"

He paused and then nodded. "He's the best hope we have."

Grace picked up her coat, and started to pull it on, but her arm got stuck in one of the sleeves, and Cas stood up and helped her, pulling it over her shirt and straightening the collar for her.

"It suits you," he said with a shy smile.

"I only got it because you wear it," she chuckled. Dean cleared his throat and she turned away and started walking to the door. "Let's go convince the preacher to kill his only daughter. Gonna be fun."

Grace and Castiel walked out the motel, and although it was only eight o'clock at night, it was already dark outside.

"Is that him?" Grace whispered to the angel when she saw the silhouette of a man walking out from the church.

"I think so," he replied, and disappeared, reappearing behind the man.

"Pastor David Gideon?" she heard Castiel say when the vicar turned around.

"Yeah," he said. "Who are you?"

"I'm an angel of the Lord,"

"Yeah, sure,"

"He's telling the truth," Grace said, walking up from behind Cas.

"Grace?" Gideon asked, recognising her voice. She nodded to Cas, and he placed his hands on Gideon and Grace's shoulders, taking them both back to the motel room.

"What the hell was that?" Gideon asked, panting slightly. Sam and Dean turned around.

"He wasn't lying about the angel thing," Grace muttered, handing the pastor a glass of water.

"Have a seat, Padre," Dean said, gesturing the arm chair. "We gotta have a chat."

Gideon sat down after a slight hesitation, and Sam and Dean took the other two. Grace sighed and sat cross legged on the floor.

"Your daughter's not a prophet," Dean said. "She's the Whore of Babylon."

"_Way to break it to him slowly_," Grace thought.

"Sir, your daughter's been dead for a long time," Sam said.

"W-what?" the pastor stuttered.

"She is dragging this whole town into the pit of hell," Castiel said. "She controls the demons that your town have been fighting, and she's been giving false prophecies."

"Are you crazy?" he cried, not believing it.

"No, and you have to kill her, or she's going to kill everyone in this town," Dean said.

"No," the pastor said. "She's my daughter."

"I'm sorry, but she's not. She's the thing that killed your daughter," Grace said sadly.

"That's impossible,"

"It's true," Sam said. "And deep down, you know it. Look, we get it, it's too much, but if you don't do this she's going to kill a lot of people, and damn the rest to hell."

"It's just," the pastor started. Dean held out the stake. "Why does it have to be me?"

"You're a servant of heaven," Cas explained.

"And you're an angel," the pastor protested.

"A poor example of one," Cas said, and Grace looked up to where he was stood, and took his hand into his own. He smiled at her sadly.

Grace stepped outside the motel with Gideon, and Sam was packing the car. She glanced over to see Dean throw Cas a bottle of painkillers.

"I'm sorry, David," she said to the pastor. "If we could do it, we would."

He nodded and climbed into the backseat of the Impala. Dean and Sam climbed into the front seats, and Grace saw that Cas was still sat on the bench outside the motel. She walked over and sat down next to him, sliding her hand into his.

"You okay?" she asked, knowing he hated stupid questions, but she didn't know what else to say.

"Yeah," he sighed. She knew he was lying, but she left it.

"Okay," she said. "I'm always here, though."

"For what?" he asked her, confused.

"I don't know, I'm not good at much, but I'm a good listener,"

Castiel nodded, and she rested her head on his shoulder.

"Come on," she said after a few moments of comfortable silence. "We should get going."

Expecting him to disappear and teleport to where the Whore was, Grace was surprised when Cas walked over to the Impala and held open the door for her, and climbed in after she did.

"I thought you said cars were slow," she whispered, leaning on his arm and resting her head on his shoulder again.

"They are," he said as Dean started the engine. "But I've come to realise it gives me more time with you."

Grace blushed and they drove to the church, and walked downstairs into the basement. Grace noticed one of the doors had been left open, and she pointed to it. The others followed her gaze, and walked towards it. She glanced at David Gideon, and he nodded, following the brothers in. Cas had already gone, and she heard a loud gasp from inside the room.

She ran in, and Leah was being restrained by Castiel, and Gideon was holding the stake, in position to stab her through the heart.

"Daddy, don't hurt me!" Leah pleaded. The pastor hesitated.

"Gideon, now!" Sam said, as he and Dean ran over to help Cas hold the Whore.

"She's not your daughter, David!" Grace called.

Leah started to chant in a foreign language, and Castiel groaned in pain.

"Cas!" Grace called, and rushed over.

The Whore, now free of Cas's grasp, raised her arms to Sam and Dean, and they were pushed across the room by psychic power. Gideon raised his stake and she did the same to him, the stake falling out of his hands.

Leah ran out of the room, and Gideon picked up the stake again and ran after her.

"Gideon, wait!" Sam yelled, standing up and running after them. "No!"

Grace was knelt over Castiel, who was writhing in pain on the floor. She felt helpless and nothing she tried helped.

"Grace," he panted. "Go. Stop the Whore."

"I'm not leaving you!" she cried.

"Go!"

She stood up, and ran after Sam, Dean and Gideon.

Leah ran into the main room of the basement, and cried out to the people inside.

"Help me, he's a demon!" she cried.

Two men grabbed Gideon as he ran in, and started punching him. Sam and Dean followed shortly after, and fought the men attacking the pastor.

Grace heard banging on a door, and she saw Rob with a lighter, about to blow up the people inside.

"Guys!" she yelled, and she ran up to Rob, prying the lighter out of his fingers. He shoved her off, and she fell to the floor with a thud and a crunch. She realised she'd landed on broken glass. Sam had managed to knock him out with a single punch, and he helped her up to her feet. She took a key out of Rob's pocket and opened the door, letting the people out.

She turned around, and saw Dean on the floor, with Leah straddling over him and strangling him.

"You're supposed to be the great vessel?" she mocked. "You're pathetic, self-hating and faithless."

Grace ran over, and pushed the stake into Dean's hand with her foot, and he then whacked Leah over the head with it, and then stabbed it through her heart.

She groaned in pain, and the skin around the stake in her heart started to hiss and bubble. Black smoke, like a demons, started to seep out of her body as she gasped for breath. After a few moments, the stake burst alight and disappeared, and Leah's body stopped convulsing. She breathed no more.

Grace sighed in relief, and remembered Castiel. She ran back to the small room, and Cas had stopped writhing in pain, but he was laid in the room very still. She rushed over, kneeling down next to him, and placed her hand near his mouth. He was still breathing. She sighed in relief.

She pulled him up by the shoulders with a grunt, and pulled his arm over her shoulders to support him. He started to regain consciousness, but he didn't seem like he was going to be walking normally any time soon.

"Grace?" he asked.

"Yeah," she panted as she led him towards the doorway. "It's me."

"Is the Whore dead?" he asked, breathing heavily.

"Shh," she soothed. "Yeah, she is, but talking isn't going to help you, come on; lean on me."

She felt him put most of his weight onto her shoulders, and she choked down a groan.

"Bloody hell, Cas," she muttered. "You're heavy."

"Sorry," he said huskily.

Sam and Dean walked in with Gideon, whose head was bleeding, and saw Grace half walking, half dragging Castiel to the door. Dean ran over and took Cas's other arm over his shoulder, taking a lot of strain off Grace, while Sam supported the pastor.

"You okay?" he asked Grace.

"I'm fine, just help me with Cas," she muttered.

She and Dean carried Cas up some concrete stairs onto the car park, and Sam opened the door to the Impala's backseat, helping Gideon inside. Dean and Grace lifted the angel climb in, and Grace sat down on the backseat with Cas's head in her lap. She noticed his nose was bleeding, and his eyes were going in and out of focus.

"Come on, Cas," she muttered. "Stay with me."

Dean started the engine when he and Sam climbed into the front.

"Dean, how did you do that?" Sam asked.

"What?" Dean asked.

"Kill her,"

"My long run of luck held out, I guess,"

"Last I checked, she could only be ganked by a servant of heaven,"

"Well, what do you want me to tell you? I saw a shot, I went for it,"

"Sam's right, Dean," Grace said, taking her eyes of Cas. "Why are you a servant of heaven all of a sudden?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Are you going to do something stupid?" Sam asked his brother.

"Like what?"

"Like _Michael_ stupid?"

"Come on, Sam," Dean sighed. "Give me a break."

They drove back to the motel room, and Grace and Dean dragged Cas inside and onto one of the three beds, and Gideon walked inside on his own, claiming he just had a headache when Grace asked if he was okay.

Sam was wrapping a bandage around Gideon's arm, while he was holding an ice pack to his forehead.

"How's the head?" Dean asked him.

"I'm seeing double," the pastor said. "But that may be the painkillers."

"You'll be okay,"

"No,"

They fell silent, and then Dean walked towards the door, picking up the Impala keys.

"Where're you going?" Sam asked him.

"Just grabbing clean bandages out of the trunk, relax" he answered over his shoulder.

Sam sighed, and then turned to Gideon.

"How's that?" he asked, referencing the bandage.

Gideon was about to reply when they heard an engine revving. Sam ran out after Dean, yelling Dean's name.

"How is he?" Gideon asked Grace, who was tending to the cut on her arm from when Rob pushed her to the floor. She'd managed to land on some broken glass.

"He'll be okay," she sighed, looking back over to the angel. "Just asleep at the moment."

Sam walked back in and Grace stood up. "He's gone," he sighed angrily.


	18. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen:**

Castiel glanced down at Grace. She was nestled up to his side, sound asleep on Bobby's couch. She'd fallen asleep while showing Castiel her favourite film 'It's Kind Of A Funny Story', which was about a teenage boy called Craig Gilner who is diagnosed with depression, and he falls in love with a girl called Noelle, who he met at a psychiatric ward. Castiel didn't understand a lot of it, like why the character Bobby had to move out of the ward into a residential home for the homeless, but he liked how Grace would smile at what she described as 'cute moments' between Craig and Noelle, and how she would start lip-syncing to the lines of her favourite scenes.

"Cas," Grace murmured.

"Yes?" Cas asked quietly. She didn't answer.

"Cas," she murmured again.

"Yes?" he repeated, raising his voice a little because he thought she couldn't hear.

She snored quietly, and Castiel realised she was still asleep, but she had said his name.

"_She's dreaming about me_," he thought, and smiled to himself.

It would be easy for him to read her mind and enter her dreams, but he didn't want to intrude on her subconscious mind, and he liked watching her sleep, although she'd half-jokily described it as 'being creepy' when he'd told her.

"_Cas? I found Dean, but I need you_," Sam's voice rang through his head. He didn't tell the Grace or the brothers, but every time someone called him through a prayer, it gave him a slight headache because the voice was so loud.

Castiel sighed, and sat up slowly, trying not to awaken Grace from her sleep. She hadn't slept in a few days, and he hated to wake her when she finally managed to get a night's rest.

He stood up, and knelt down to Grace, kissing her forehead before he left, and he reappeared at Sam's side.

"Cas," he said, relieved. "I didn't think you were gonna show."

"I didn't want to leave Grace," he said honestly. "But you found Dean, where is he?"

"In there," Sam said, pointing to the motel they were stood outside. "He's gonna say yes to Michael."

Castiel nodded, knowing what he had to do, and Sam walked inside.

Dean was inside his motel room, drinking a bottle of beer while he packed his belongings into a cardboard box, sealing it with tape and then addressing it to Bobby, when Sam walked in.

"Sending someone a candygram?" Sam asked.

"How'd you find me?" Dean asked.

"Well, you're gonna kill yourself, right?" Sam said. "It's not too hard to figure out the stops on the farewell tour. How's Lisa doing, anyways?"

"I'm not gonna kill myself,"

"No? So Michael is _not_ about to make you his Muppet? What the hell, man? _This_ is how it ends? You just walk out?"

"Yeah, I guess,"

"How could you do that?"

"How could I? All you've ever done is run away," Dean said angrily.

"And I was _wrong_ every single time I did," Sam shouted back. "Just, _please_, not now. Bobby is working on something."

"Oh, really? What?"

Sam didn't answer.

"You got nothing and you know it," Dean said.

"You know I have to stop you," Sam sighed.

"Yeah, well, you can try. Just remember, you're not all hopped up on demon blood this time,"

"Yeah, I know. But I brought help,"

Castiel took his cue, and appeared behind Dean. When the older Winchester brother turned around, Cas raised his hand to Dean, disappearing and reappearing at Bobby's house.

Grace ran through into the study when she heard voices in the room next door. Bobby was at his desk, working and researching like he had been since the last time she'd seen him, and Sam and Dean were pacing around the room.

"Grace," Cas said from behind her. She turned around to see him leaning against the doorway she just came through. "I didn't think you were awake."

"Yeah, I woke up an hour ago," she said, and smiled as he put his arm around her like she loved.

"Grace, can you _please_ be the only reasonable person in this room and let me go? I could stop this, _all_ of this. I can stop the damn apocalypse and all I have to do is say yes to Michael!" Dean said, pleading her to side with him.

"Actually, Dean," she sighed. "It was my idea to bring you back here."

Dean cursed. "Eight months of turned pages and screwed pooches, but _tonight_, tonight's when the magic happens," he said sarcastically.

"You ain't helping," Bobby sighed. Grace observed how tired he sounded and wondered when the last time he had a full eight hours of sleep was.

"Yeah, well, why don't you let me get out of your hair, then," Dean said.

"Dean," Grace said, begging him to stop trying to leave.

"Don't '_Dean'_ me, Grace," he snapped, and Castiel sent him a glare.

"Sorry," he added to Grace, noticing the look of hurt flash across her eyes.

"What the hell happened to you?" Bobby asked.

"Reality happened. Nuclear is the only option we have left. Michael can ice the devil and save a boatload of people!" Dean shouted.

"But not all of them," Bobby said firmly. "We gotta think of something else."

"That's easy for you to say, but if Lucifer burns this mother down and I could have done something, guess what, that's on me,"

"You can't give up, son,"

"You're not my father. And you ain't in my shoes,"

"Dean!" Grace growled. "Stop it, right now! You can't just treat people like this. We're trying to stop you from _killing_ yourself. Death can't be taken lightly. You have a _choice_ here. You don't _have_ to die, there are other options!"

"Like what?" Dean shouted. "We've been looking for other options since Lucifer was released out of hell, and we've still got nothing!"

Bobby took an old looking gun out of the top drawer of his desk and placed it on a pile of books on the desk. He then pulled a single bullet out of his pocket, and twirled it around in his fingers.

"What is that?" Dean asked him.

"That's the round I mean to put through my skull," he said and put it on the desk. Grace's jaw dropped open slightly, horrified at the thought of Bobby wanting to kill himself. "Every morning I look at it, and I think: _maybe today is the day I flip the lights out_. But I don't do it. I _never_ do it. You know why? Because I promised you I wouldn't give up!"

Grace saw Dean swallow, not breaking eye contact with Bobby.

Suddenly, Cas shuddered from behind her, and gasped in pain.

"Cas!" she cried, and whirled around to face him, scanning him with her eyes to figure out what happened. He clutched his head, and Grace realised it must've been something heaven related.

"Cas?" Sam asked, not getting up from his seat but looking concerned. "You okay?"

"No," he said.

"What's wrong?"

"Something's happening," Cas said, straightening up.

"Where?" Dean asked.

"I'm sorry," he whispered into Grace's ear before disappearing. Dean sighed.

"Great, now we have no chance of finding out what happened," he said.

Sam stood up and walked into the kitchen, picking up the newspaper on the counter.

Dean walked in, and Grace heard him say "I want to get a beer, do you mind?" and she assumed Sam was stood in front of the couch.

"You okay, Bobby?" she asked him.

'No, Grace, not really," he sighed, taking off his reading glasses and putting them on the book he was reading, looking for something that could help Dean.

Grace then heard the flutter of angel wings, and a few papers on Bobby's desk blew off. She turned to see Castiel with a grimy looking guy over his shoulder.

"Help," Cas called to the brothers, and slung the unconscious boy onto the sofa.

Bobby wheeled over. "Who is it?" he asked, and then looked at Sam and Dean.

"That's our brother," Sam said.

Grace frowned. "_Adam?_" she thought.

"Wait a minute," Bobby said. "Your brother? Adam?"

"Cas, what the hell?" Dean asked, knowing his brother was dead.

Castiel put two angel swords on the desk. "Angels," he said in a growl.

"Angels? Why?" Sam asked.

Cas shook his head. "I know one thing for sure. We need to hide him. Now."

The angel put his hand on Adam's chest, and Grace assumed he was carving Enochian marks into his ribs, that would hide him from angels.

Adam grunted in pain, waking up. He sat up, gasping, and looked around the room desperately.

"Where am I?" he asked.

"It's okay," Sam said calmly. "Just relax, you're safe."

"Who the hell are you?"

"Well, you're gonna find this a little-" Dean started but Grace cut him off.

"They're your brothers," she said. "Well, half-brothers. We're here to help you, Adam,"

"It's the truth," Sam nodded. "John Winchester is our father too. I'm Sam and-"

"Yeah, and I'm sure that's Dean," Adam said. Grace, Sam and Dean frowned. "I know who you are."

"How?" Sam asked.

"They warned me about you,"

"Who did?"

"The angels," Grace answered at the same time as Adam. "Who else?" she added.

Sam and Dean glanced at each other.

"Now, where the hell is Zachariah?" Adam shouted.

Castiel heard Grace sigh behind him. "_Of course it'd be Zachariah_," he thought.

"It's okay, why don't you just tell us everything," Dean said.

"Not until you tell me where-" Adam started.

"We'll take you to Zachariah soon," Grace said, and Cas knew she was lying by the way she brushed her hair behind her ear with her fingers. She always did that when she lied, like a lot of humans. "We just need to know what happened."

Adam glanced down at his clothes that were covered in mud.

"Do you want a drink? I can make you one while you wash yourself up," Grace said, standing up. Adam nodded and smiled slightly.

"Please," he muttered.

Grace pointed him to the bathroom, and walked into the kitchen. Cas watched her pour Adam a glass of alcohol and she sat back down in the study next to him, holding the glass in her hands.

Cas noticed Dean was looking at her strangely, and Grace must've done too, as she looked at him and asked him why he was looking at her.

"_We'll take you to Zachariah_?" he asked her, imitating what she'd told Adam.

Grace sighed. "Yeah, I lied, I know," she said quietly. "But he wouldn't have agreed to tell us anything if he thought we were on the side opposite to the angels,"

"We are," Sam said.

"I know, but think of it from his perspective: angels come into Adam's heaven, telling him a bunch of crap about us, and then telling him they'd bring him back to life. He wakes up to the people he believes are the bad guys; _how do you think he's gonna react_?" she said.

Castiel smiled to himself; he loved how Grace could empathise with others and was smart enough to know how they were feeling.

"Huh," Sam said. "I hadn't thought of it like that."

"Oh, Adam's gonna need some new clothes. Dean? Have you got some he can borrow?" Grace asked.

Dean nodded. "You know where my room is," he said.

Grace went upstairs into Dean's bedroom. She pulled a black t-shirt, a grey button up shirt and a pair of jeans from the duffle bag on Dean's bed, and took them to the downstairs bathroom.

"Adam?" she called through the door. "It's Grace, I'm just gonna leave some clothes on the stool in there. I'll close my eyes."

"Um, okay," Adam's voice said, turning off the shower. "Thanks."

He unlocked the door, and with her eyes closed, she put the dry clothes on a stool.

She walked back into the study, and sat down on the edge of the desk next to Cas.

Adam walked in, and Grace offered him the drink. He took it with a shy smile.

"Well," he started. "I was dead and in heaven, except it, uh, kind of looked like my prom. I was making out with this girl, her name was Kristin McGee."

"Yeah, that sounds like heaven," Dean smirked. "Did you get to third base?"

"Dean," Grace hissed, rolling her eyes.

"Just, uh, just keep going," Sam said to Adam.

"Well, these angels, they popped out of nowhere and they tell me that I'm chosen,"

"For what?" Sam asked.

"To save the world,"

"How are you gonna do that?" asked Dean, frowning.

"Oh, me and some archangel are gonna kill the devil," Adam said casually, as if it wasn't a big deal.

"What archangel?"

"Michael. I'm his sword or vessel or something. I don't know,"

"Well, that's insane," Dean said, not believing it.

"Not necessarily," Cas and Grace said in sync.

"How do you mean?" Dean asked them.

"Adam's your brother; it's the same bloodline, Dean," Grace explained.

"Maybe they're moving on from you," Castiel said a little harshly. "He's John Winchester's son, Sam's brother; it's not perfect, but it's possible."

"You gotta be kidding me,"

"Why would they do this?" Sam asked, gesturing Adam, who looked like he'd rather be somewhere else.

"Maybe they're desperate," Grace sighed.

"Maybe they wrongly assumed Dean would be brave enough," Castiel said.

"Cas," Grace said, shocked.

"You mean after everything that's happened, all the crap about destiny, and suddenly the angels have a plan B?" Sam asked angrily. "Does that smell right to anybody?"

"You know, this has been a really moving family reunion," Adam said. "But, uh, I got a thing, so-"

"No, wait," Sam said. "Just, listen. The angels are lying to you. They're full of crap."

Adam chuckled. "Yeah, I don't think so,"

"Really? Why not?"

"Because they're _angels_,"

"Did they tell you they were gonna roast half the planet?"

"They said the fight would get hairy, but it is the devil, right, so we gotta stop him,"

"Yeah, but there's another way,"

Dean sighed.

"Great, what is it?" Adam asked, not believing a word of what Sam was saying.

"We're working on the power of love, at the moment," Dean said. Grace scowled at him.

"How's that going?" Adam asked him sarcastically.

"Mm, not good,"

"What did they promise you?" Grace asked Adam.

"What?" Castiel, Sam and Dean asked at the same time.

Grace looked at Adam. "Look, you're saying that the angels told you that you were the vessel of Michael or whatever, but you wouldn't just leave heaven because you could save the world, so they must've thrown something into the deal."

Sam sighed irritably. "Look, Adam, you don't know me from a hole in the wall, I know, but just trust me. Give me some time."

"Give me one good reason," Adam said to him.

"Because we're blood,"

"You got no right to say that to me,"

"You're still John's boy," Bobby said.

"No, John Winchester was some guy who took me to a baseball game once a year. I don't have a dad. So we may be _blood_, but we are not _family_. My mom is my family, and if I do my job, I get to see her again. So no offense, but she's the one I give a rat's ass about. Not you."

"They promised you that you'd see her again?" Grace asked. After a second's hesitation, Adam nodded.

"Yeah," he said quietly.

"Fair enough," Sam said. "But if you have one good memory of Dad, just one, then you'll give us a little more time."

"Please, Adam," Grace said. "We just want to help."

Adam looked at her, and after a sigh, he nodded.

"Fine," he said, and Grace smiled.

"Dean? Can I talk to you for a second?" Sam asked his brother, following Grace's plan.

Dean nodded and followed his brother out of the room.

Grace sighed and turned to Castiel. "He's gonna hate us for this," she muttered.

"I know," he said quietly, as they heard Sam take Dean downstairs into the basement where he was going to trick his older brother into the panic room, where he'd stay until he'd gotten over his 'I'm gonna say yes to Michael and save the world' phase.

Bobby had made Adam a cheese sandwich, and he was now in his study again, going through all the books he owned in case he could find something that gave Adam and Dean an alternative option.

Grace wandered into the living room, where Adam was sat. He opened up his sandwich, and then put it down with a look of disgust.

"You okay?" she asked. "I know, the food's not great."

"How do you stand it here?" he asked her. "I mean, you're not their sister so you don't _have_ to be here. You have a _family_-"

"And I miss them," Grace said. "I do, but I need to be here. They need me."

"You do seem the only one here with a functional brain," he sighed, and she smiled.

"They mean well, Adam, I mean it,"

"You keep saying that," he sighed. "So, how did you find these guys? I mean, you're _British_."

Grace smiled. "It's a long story."

"And we have a lot of time?" he said with a flirty smile.

"Uh, well-"

"Grace?" Castiel's voice said from behind her. She stood up and smiled.

"Hey, Cas," she greeted him warmly, and he kissed her on the lips. Grace was surprised; he'd never kissed her in front of anyone before.

"What was that for?" she asked with a sly smile, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"What? Am I not allowed to kiss you?"

"I never said that," she giggled, blushing slightly. "Anyway, what did you call me for?"

"Oh, uh, Bobby wanted you, something about you having small hands,"

"Okay," she sung, and skipped off happily.

"Smooth," Adam said to Castiel with a smirk once Grace was out of earshot. "Kissing your girlfriend as soon as she talks to another guy. Do you not trust her, or something?"

"I trust Grace with my life," the angel said. He really didn't like this boy, and he was starting to regret pulling him out of the earth. "It's you that I don't trust."

"You know, she has a family. A home. And you're just dragging her along for the Apocalypse? What kind of person does that?" Adam asked.

"I know she has a family!" Castiel snapped. "I'm protecting her."

"You think she's safer with you than at home? You're stupider than I thought,"

Castiel didn't answer.

"She deserves better than this," Adam continued. "She deserves better than you."

A few hours later, Cas walked from Grace's room, where she was now asleep, into the living room to where Adam was asleep on the couch.

"_He's right_," he thought. "_Grace deserves better than what I can give her. She deserves a family and a home_. _I can't give her that._"

Bobby wheeled around the corner, stopping next to Castiel, and then Sam opened the door and walked in.

"How's he doing?" Bobby asked him, referencing Dean being locked in the panic room. They knew he wouldn't like it, but they couldn't risk him saying yes to Michael, and Grace's idea was the best they had.

Sam sighed and shrugged, as if to say '_How do you think he's doing?_'.

Bobby nodded. "How're _you_ doing?"

Sam didn't answer, and Castiel left the room and walked downstairs into the basement.

He heard a smash from inside the panic room, and quickened his pace.

"Dean?" he called through the iron door. There was no reply, so he slid open the window and peered inside, but he couldn't see his friend.

He swung open the door, and stepped inside.

"Cas," Dean said, and closed the door to the closet in the room, revealing an angel sigel made of his blood. He pressed his hand in the middle of it, and Castiel yelled as he was forced out of the building in a beam of bright light.


	19. Chapter 17

**Chapter Seventeen:**

Grace awoke in her bedroom to loud voices downstairs.

"_Can I not get at least four hours of sleep without being woken up_?" she thought tiredly, and sat up. She walked downstairs sleepily and into the living room, where Sam was pacing.

"Bobby, what do you mean Adam is _gone_?" Sam asked angrily.

"Should I say it in Spanish?" Bobby replied.

"Wait, Adam's missing?" Grace asked, her shock waking her up properly.

"He's gone how? What the hell, Bobby?"

"Watch your tone, boy," Bobby warned; his voice was louder than usual. He turned to Grace and nodded. "He was right in front of me and he disappeared into thin air."

Sam groaned.

"Because the angels took him," Castiel said from behind them. He'd just appeared out of nowhere and he had Dean over his shoulders, bloody and bruised.

"Dean!" Grace gasped, rushing over to them. "Cas, what happened?"

"Me," Castiel replied, and slung Dean onto the sofa where Adam had slept the night before.

"What do you mean the angels took Adam?" Bobby asked.

"I thought you branded his ribs?" Grace added.

"Yes, I did. Adam must have tipped them,"

"How?" Sam asked.

"I don't know, maybe in a dream," Cas sighed.

"Well, where will they have taken him?" asked Sam.

"I don't know,"

Grace sighed, and glanced over at Dean, who was unconscious. "Well, we might as well put Dean back in the panic room again, he's gonna wake up soon," she said. Sam and Castiel nodded and picked him up. They carried him downstairs and Grace followed them and watched as they handcuffed him to the bed inside the panic room and then locked the door.

"Cas, do you know where they took Dean last time?" Grace asked him. "Adam might be in the same place."

Castiel nodded.

"We have to take Dean," Sam said.

"What?" Grace gasped. "Are you serious? He's just gonna take one look at Zachariah and say yes to Michael!"

"He won't; he won't say yes until Adam is safe. Plus, there are too many angels to do it alone,"

Grace groaned in frustration.

"I'll go check to see if it is the same place as where they took Dean," Castiel said before disappearing.

Castiel came back several minutes later and nodded. "They're there," he said huskily.

Sam nodded, and went into the panic room and woke up Dean. A few minutes later they both stepped out and Sam told them they were going upstairs to tell Bobby the plan. Grace nodded and turned to Cas.

"Okay, let's go," she said eagerly.

"You're not coming, Grace," Cas said.

"What? Of course I am!"

"No, you're not,"

"Why the hell not?"

"It's too dangerous. There are gonna be at least five angels guarding the-"

"Then you need me!" Grace snapped, cutting him off.

"You'll get hurt,"

"And you won't?" she argued.

"I'm not letting you go," he sighed.

"You can't stop me- well, okay, you can, but _please_, Cas! You can't leave me out here in the dark! You _know_ I hate feeling useless-"

"And how do you think I'd feel if you died?" he shouted.

Grace didn't answer.

"I _love_ you, and you're just willing to throw yourself into danger and get yourself _killed_?" he continued. "How do you honestly think I'd feel if I had to come back here with your _body_? I told you before, I've never felt about anyone the way I feel for you, and you're willing to throw that in my face? I'm _not_ going to let you die, Grace!"

"I love you too, but you can't just tell me to stay here every time you're in a fight! We're in this _together_, Cas, you have to let me go!"

"I can't do that, Grace," he said quietly.

She groaned in frustration, and Castiel frowned at her.

"Are you embarrassed?" he asked. "Your face is red."

"No, I'm not embarrassed," she said in a frustrated tone. "I'm angry."

He nodded. "I'm sorry," he said, and then disappeared. She sprinted upstairs

"Don't you dare walk out that door, Castiel!" she yelled, but he had already vanished with Sam and Dean.

"You bastard!" she screamed in frustration, and kicked the sofa before collapsing onto it, ignoring the throbbing in her foot.

"Grace?" Bobby asked, sounding concerned as he wheeled in from the kitchen.

"Sorry, Bobby," she sighed. "I'm just pissed off with Cas."

"He's only trying to protect you, you know,"

"I know, but," she said and then groaned. "He needs to realise I'm not as fragile as he thinks I am. I need to clear my head for a while, do you mind if I go for a drive?"

Bobby shook his head, and she ran upstairs to pack her bags; she needed to clear her head, but she wanted to spend some time away from Bobby's house for a while.

She borrowed one of Dean's duffle bags and packed some clothes and some of her belongings into it, and pulled on her trench coat.

She went downstairs again, and took a pair of car keys from the kitchen. She stepped outside, breathing in the fresh air, and walked slowly over to the car the keys belonged to.

After swinging open the door and climbing inside, she took a deep breath and set off driving. She didn't know exactly where she was going, but she continued to follow the odd inclination of directions in her head.

She pulled up at an empty beach, and stepped outside of the car. It was the middle of the day and the sun was shining, but there was no one in sight.

"_Mind you,_" Grace thought. "_This place is in the middle of nowhere_."

She sat down on the car's bonnet, and she saw the outline of a man laid on the beach, wearing a beige trench coat. Grace gasped and jumped off the car, running over.

"Cas?" she yelled. The angel didn't seem to hear her.

She knelt down when she reached him and shook his shoulder slightly.

"Castiel!" she hissed, and his eyes snapped open.

"Grace," he breathed, wincing in pain slightly.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, and then noticed his shirt was drenched in blood. "What the hell happened?"

He didn't answer, but groaned in pain instead.

"Damn it, Cas, if you're wounded I'm gonna have to clean it or it'll get infected," she muttered, and started undoing his shirt.

His chest had been carved into, and the markings were the design of an angel sigel.

"What the hell?" she gasped.

"I made the angels disappear," Cas murmured.

"You are such an _idiot_," she said with a chuckle, although her eyes were brimming with tears.

"Tell me what to do," she said. "I don't know how to treat angels. Can you do your healing thingy on yourself?"

"I'm practically human," he breathed with a slight shake of his head. "You could say I've drained my batteries."

"It's temporary, right?" she gasped. He nodded and she exhaled in relief.

"Okay, well I'm gonna clean this," she said, and then realised she didn't have anything with her, not even any clean water.

"Damn it, Cas," she muttered. "I'll have to take you to a hospital."

"How, how did you find me?"

"I don't know, exactly; I just drove and I guess my instinct lead me to you,"

"Hmm," was all he said. Grace sat down beside him and pulled out her phone. She dialled 911.

Grace woke up a few hours later in a hospital chair. She glanced over at Castiel, who was in a hospital bed, and stretched out her arms and back. Cas must have heard her move, because his eyes snapped open and he sat upright with a grunt.

"You're awake," he said huskily.

"And you're breathing normally," she pointed out. "How're you feeling?"

"Fine," he answered. "Just thirsty and it hurts when I move."

"I'm not surprised," she chuckled. "The doctors are surprised you woke up, they thought you were brain dead. I'll get you a drink though."

Castiel nodded and she got up and walked out of the room.

"So, what happened? Did Sam and Dean get Adam get out okay?" she asked when she got back. She gave Castiel a plastic cup of water and pulled up the arm chair next to his bed before sitting on it.

"I don't know," he said, taking a sip of water. "I went in first and used the sigel on my chest to take out the angels, and I assume Sam and Dean went in after I'd gone."

"You haven't seen them since?"

He shook his head. "I disappeared in the warehouse at Van Nuys and woke up next to you,"

"I'm gonna give Sam and Dean a call then,"

He nodded and she pulled out her phone from her trench coat pocket.

Dean answered on the second ring.

"_Grace, where they hell are you?_" he asked.

"A hospital in Delacroix-" she started.

"_What the hell happened? Are you okay?_"

"Calm down, I'm fine. I found Cas, he's okay, just, uh, human,"

"_He's human?"_

"Practically. He says his 'batteries are drained',"

"_He's out of angel mojo?_"

"Yeah, I think so,"

Dean sighed. "_Well, I gotta tell you, you're just in time; we figured out a way to pop Satan's box_."

"How?"

"_It's a long story, but we're going after Pestilence now, so if you and Cas was to zap over here-"_

"He can't zap anywhere, remember?"

"_Right, basically human, got it,"_

"I've got one of Bobby's cars, I'll drive. Where are you, guys?"

"_Bobby's now but meet us at Serenity Valley, it's a convalescent home,"_

"Okay, will do," Grace said. "How did you find Pestilence, anyway?"

"_We found a demon, Brady, who's in charge of some pharmaceutical company; 'Niveus Pharmaceuticals' or something, but anyway, he knows where he is,"_

"And how do you know he's telling the truth?"

"_Well, let's just say he has nothing left to lose and no reason to lie,_"

"Fair enough," she said, and then noticed Cas waving his hand, gesturing the phone. "Oh, hold on, Cas wants to talk to you."

She handed the phone to Castiel, and he put it to his ear. Grace pointed out the door, and she mouthed 'I'm gonna grab some food' before walking out.

"Dean," Cas said.

"_Cas, we thought you were dead,"_ Castiel heard Dean say through the phone speakers.

"Sorry, I woke up on a beach with Grace at my side and then I woke up in a hospital with her,"

"_Wait, wait, wait, Grace was with you? How the hell did she find you?"_

"I don't know, she said she had been driving and her instincts took her to the beach she found me on,"

"_Hmm_,"

"You sound suspicious," he said, holding back a growl.

"_No, no, not suspicious; just surprised,_"

Castiel sighed. "Dean, you said no to Michael. I owe you an apology,"

"_Cas, it's okay,"_

"You are not the burnt and broken shell of a man I believed you to be,"

"_Thank you. I appreciate that_,"

"You're welcome," Castiel said, and then Dean ended the call. Grace, as if on cue, walked back in.

"You okay?" she asked.

"No,"

"Other than physical pain?"

The angel frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Well, how do you feel emotionally? You're not still cut off from emotions are you?"

"No, not since I fell, but I'm still not tuned into them like humans are,"

"Well, if you were feeling really happy or really sad you'd know about it, so I think you're fine," she chuckled. "Oh, and Dean wants us to meet him and Sam; they're going after Pestilence. I figured we'd drive. Do you know where Serenity Valley is?"


	20. Chapter 18

**Chapter Eighteen:**

Castiel opened the door of the automobile and stepped out.

"Come on," Grace said, and they ran inside the convalescent home.

"This way," Castiel said, running around a corner.

"How do you-" he heard Grace say from behind him, but he then heard a thud. He whirled around and saw her collapse to the floor.

"Grace?" he called, running back to her and kneeling down beside her.

"I'm fine," she said, coughing up blood.

"No, you're not," he said, trying to think of what to do. He would usually use his angelic abilities to heal her, but without them he was clueless.

"Find Pestilence," she gasped. "Cut off his ring and kill the bastard. Go!"

He hesitated, but she pushed him away and said "Cas, go!"

He took off at a run again but stopped at a door with 210 written on a plaque. He swung open the door and stepped in.

"Cas?" Dean groaned from the floor. He and Sam were in the same state as Grace; coughing up blood and unable to move.

"How'd you get here?" Pestilence growled.

"My girlfriend drove me," Castiel said, though he wasn't sure whether 'girlfriend' was the right word to use. He turned to the brothers. "She's in the same state as you are but don't worry I-"

He buckled over, coughing and retching up blood. He saw Pestilence smiling from the corner of his eyes.

"Well, look at that," he cooed, kneeling down to Castiel. "An occupied vessel, but powerless. Huh. That's fascinating. There's not a _spec_ of angel in you, is there?"

Castiel took his vulnerable position as an opportunity, grabbed Sam's demon killing knife, and cut off Pestilence's fingers; his ring included. Pestilence yelled out in pain, and a nurse with demonic black eyes screamed and launched herself at Castiel. He ran the knife into her stomach, and she died before doing him any harm.

Dean jumped up, healthy again now Pestilence's ring was separated from his body, and Grace ran in.

"It doesn't matter. It's too late," Pestilence said to them all, as Grace was pulling the nurse's body off Cas and helping him to his feet. Castiel looked up but discovered that Pestilence had disappeared.

"Well, it might be too late for you," Grace said optimistically, wiping at her own blood on her coat's collar. "But we've got three horsemen rings."

They drove back to Bobby's house in separate cars, and Grace parked up next to the Impala.

She threw the keys to Bobby as Dean placed Pestilence's ring on the desk.

"Well, it's nice to actually score a home run for once, ain't it?" Bobby said, eyeing the ring. No one answered. "What?"

"The last thing Pestilence said," Sam started. "_'It's too late_'".

"He get specific?"

"No," Sam said.

"We're just a little freaked out that he might have left a bomb somewhere," Dean said. "So please tell us you have actual good news."

"Chicago's about to be wiped off the map," Bobby sighed. "Storm of the millennium. Set's off a daisy chain of natural disasters. Three million people are gonna die."

"Huh," Dean said.

"I don't understand your definition of good news," Castiel said with a frown.

"Well," Bobby started. "Death, the horseman, he's gonna be there, and if we can stop him before he kick-starts this storm and get his ring back-"

"Yeah," Dean said. "You make it sound so easy."

"Hell, I'm just trying to put a spin on it,"

"Bobby, how'd you put all this together? How'd do you know there's gonna be a storm in Chicago?" Grace asked.

"I had, you know, help," he said, looking down.

"From who?" Grace said, but then she heard a bottle clatter from behind them from the kitchen, and she spun around.

"Crowley?" she gasped.

"Don't be so modest; I barely helped at all," Crowley said to Bobby, and then walked into the living room.

"Hello, pleasure et cetera," he said, and sniffed the glass of whiskey he'd just poured. He grimaced and put it down again. He looked at Bobby. "Go ahead, tell them. There's no shame in it."

"Bobby?" Sam said sternly. "Tell us what?"

Bobby hesitated and then sighed. "World's gonna end, it seems stupid to get all precious over one little soul."

"You sold your soul?" Dean asked him, looking both astounded and shocked.

Grace noticed Castiel look down in disappointment.

"Oh, more like pawned it," Crowley said. "I fully intend to give it back."

"Well then give it back!" Dean demanded.

"I will," Crowley said calmly.

"Now!" Dean shouted.

"Did you kiss him?" Sam asked Bobby.

"Sam," Dean said, telling him to shut up.

"Just wondering," Sam muttered, defending himself. They both turned to Bobby.

"No!" Bobby insisted, as if repulsed by the idea. Crowley then cleared his throat, and pulled out his mobile phone, showing a picture of him and Bobby kissing.

"Why did you take a picture?" Bobby growled regretfully.

"Why did you use tongue?" Crowley shot back.

"Ship it," Grace said. They all turned to her. "What?"

"What the hell does '_ship it_' mean?" Dean asked.

"It's when you want two people to be together, like Ron and Hermione in Harry Potter, and John and Sherlock in Sherlock," Castiel said, reciting what Grace had told him back when she had been affected by Famine. He gestured himself and Grace with a broad grin. "We're Grastiel, or Crace. You merge the names together."

Grace had never smiled so broadly. "You remember that?" she asked him, unable to stop grinning.

"What the hell have you done to him?" Dean asked Grace, making her laugh.

"Hey, that was Famine talking," she laughed, putting her hands up in surrender.

Dean turned to Crowley. "Give Bobby his soul back now."

"I'm sorry, I can't," Crowley said.

"Can't or won't?"

"I won't, all right? It's insurance,"

"What are you talking about?"

"You kill demons. Gigantor over there," he said, gesturing Sam. "has a temper issue about it. But you won't kill me as long as I have that soul in the deposit box."

"You son of a bitch," Bobby growled.

"I'll return it; after all this is over and I can walk safely away. Do we all understand each other?"

Bobby sighed.

Grace and Castiel were outside with Dean, who was clearing out the Impala of broken tools and weapons when Sam walked over. He sighed.

"Let me guess," Dean said. "We're about to have a talk."

"A talk?" Grace asked nosily.

"_About what?_" she thought.

"Sam has this idea about saying yes to Satan," Dean said sarcastically.

"What?" Grace choked, turning to Sam. "Are you serious?"

"Yes, he is," Cas said.

"I have an idea that if I say yes to Lucifer, and then you guys take him to the pit, I can take over my own body and jump in," Sam said.

"And it's a stupid idea!" Dean and Grace said at the same time.

"Look, Dean, for the record; I agree with you about me. You think I'm too weak to take on Lucifer? Well, so do I," Sam said to his brother, and then turned to include Grace and Castiel as well. "Believe me, I know how screwed up I am. You three and Bobby; I'm the least of any of you."

"Sam," Grace sighed.

"It's true, it is," Sam insisted. "But I'm also all we've got. If there was another way… but I don't think there is; there's just me. So I don't know what else to do, except just try to do what's gotta be done."

"And scene," Crowley said, appearing from the other side of the Impala. Grace clenched her jaw.

"Something you need to see," Crowley said, handing a newspaper to Sam and pointing to a particular article.

"_Niveus Pharmaceuticals rushing delivery of its new swine flu vaccine to quote 'stem the tide of the unprecedented outbreak'. Shipments leave Wednesday,_" Sam read out. "So what?"

"Niveus Pharmaceuticals," Crowley said, as if it was obvious. The brothers raised their eyebrows, waiting for the punch line.

Graced sighed in realisation. "Niveus Pharmaceuticals. Didn't you say that's where that demon Brady was? He told you were Pestilence was,"

Sam flinched at his name.

"You two are lucky you have your looks," Crowley said, and then gestured Grace. "She's the only one whose pretty face actually has a brain as well."

Castiel grabbed hold of Grace's hand protectively.

"Easy, tiger," Crowley said, noticing the movement.

"So Pestilence was spreading swine flu," Sam said.

"Yeah, but that wasn't just for giggles. That was step one; step two is the vaccine," Dean said, and turned to Crowley. "And you think-"

"I know," the demon said.

"So the vaccine is the Croatoan virus?" Grace asked.

"I'll stake my reputation for it," Crowley nodded.

"Simultaneous countrywide distribution," Castiel said.

Sam exhaled. "It's quite a plan."

"You don't get to be horsemen for nothing," said Crowley. "So you better stock up on, well, everything. This time next Thursday, we'll all be living in zombie land."

"Grace, you ready yet?" Dean called from his bedroom.

"Nearly!" she yelled back from her own; she was just finishing packing her borrowed duffle bag. She slung it over her shoulder, and walked out onto the landing.

"Come on, then," Sam said, and they tromped out downstairs. The brothers then proceeded into the kitchen to stock up on beer and food, and Grace stepped outside into the night sky, and walked up to Castiel and Bobby, who were next to a van packed full of weaponry. Castiel was looking up at the sky, and he sighed.

"_Oh god, do angels brood?"_ Grace thought, laughing to herself at his expression.

"What's your problem?" Bobby asked him. He hadn't noticed Grace.

"This is what they mean by 'the eleventh hour', right?" Castiel asked Bobby, not noticing Grace either, even as she stepped up behind him.

"Pretty much," Bobby said while he was packing his duffle bag.

"Well, it's the eleventh hour and I am useless," the angel sighed. He looked at the shotgun in his hand. "All I have is this; what do I do with it?"

"Point it and shoot," Grace said. "And you're _not_ useless, Cas, even as a human."

Castiel turned around to face her. "What I used to be-" he started.

"Are you really gonna bitch to _me_?" Bobby growled, and wheeled up to him.

"Quit pining for the varsity years," Bobby continued, and chucked his bag to Cas, who barely caught it. "And load the damn truck."

Castiel sighed as Bobby wheeled back into the garage.

"You're not useless, Cas," Grace murmured to him. She hugged him tightly and he rested his head on hers; she was the perfect height for it. "Even when you're human."

"But I can't protect you," he said, wrapping his arms around her. Grace could imagine his wings curling up around her body and embracing her, and she already felt safer than before.

"Even as an angel you can't protect me from everything," she sighed. "You just have to trust me that I'll be okay."

"How can you say that when you're-"

"When I'm what?" she asked, raising an eyebrow even though he couldn't see it. He didn't answer. "I'm not as fragile as I look, Cas, I _can_ look after myself."

Dean and Sam walked over, and they broke apart.

"All right, well, good luck stopping the whole zombie apocalypse," Dean said to them, as Sam threw his bag into the truck; Sam was going with her and Cas as they tried to stop the distribution of the Croatoan virus, which was disguised as a swine flu vaccine.

"Yeah. Good luck killing Death," Sam said.

"Yeah," Dean exhaled, knowing how ridiculous that sounded.

"Remember when we used to just hunt wendigos?" Sam said to Dean with a smirk. "How simple things were?"

"_Hell, yeah_," Grace thought.

"Not really," Dean said.

Sam sighed. "Well, um, you might need this," he said, handing Dean the knife that killed demons.

"Keep it," Crowley said, appearing next to Dean. He handed Dean a peculiar looking knife with a curved blade. "He's covered. It's Death's own. Kills, golly, demons and angels and reapers and, rumour has it, the very thing itself."

Castiel frowned. "How did you get that?"

"Hello? King of the crossroads?" Crowley said. He turned back to Dean. "So, shall we?"

He then looked at Bobby. "Bobby, just gonna sit there?"

"No, I'm gonna river dance," he said sarcastically.

"Well, I suppose, if you want to impress the ladies," Crowley said. Sam, Dean and Grace turned to him and frowned. Crowley sighed. "Bobby, Bobby, Bobby. Really wasted that crossroads deal. Fact, you get more if you phrase it properly. So, I took the liberty of adding a teeny little sub-A clause on your behalf."

Grace raised her eyebrows. "_What_?" she thought.

"What can I say? I'm an altruist," Crowley smiled. He turned back to Bobby. "Just gonna sit there?"

Everyone turned to Bobby, who then looked down at his legs.

"_Oh my gosh!_" Grace screamed internally.

Bobby moved his foot, and Grace couldn't wipe the grin off her face. He then placed his feet outside of his wheelchair, and stood up slowly, using the arm rests of his wheelchair as support.

"Son of a bitch," he breathed.

"Yes, I know," Crowley said. "Completely worth your soul; I'm a hell of a guy."

Bobby stared at Crowley for a few seconds, before saying "thanks" in a breathless voice.

"Okay," Crowley grimaced. "This is getting maudlin. Can we go?"

Crowley span on his heel and started walking to Dean's Impala. Sam and Dean were staring at Bobby, who was smiling from ear to ear in joy.

"Okay, I totally ship it," Grace whispered into Cas's ear, who then smiled. "Browley or Cobby?"

He chuckled. "Definitely Browley."


	21. Chapter 19

**Chapter Nineteen:**

Grace was sat in the back of the van with Castiel while Bobby was driving.

"Yes to Lucifer then jump in the hole," Cas said, mulling over Sam's plan. "It's an interesting plan."

"Doesn't mean it's a good one," Grace muttered.

"So go ahead and tell me it's the worst plan you've ever heard," Sam said to Castiel.

"Of course. I am happy to say that if that's what you wanna hear," Cas said. "But it's not what I think."

"What?" Grace said in shock.

"Really?" Sam asked.

"You and Dean have a habit of exceeding my expectations. He resisted Michael, maybe you could resist Lucifer. But there are things that you would need to know,"

"Like?"

"Michael has found another vessel,"

"What? Who?"

"Adam," Grace said grimly. "He's still your brother, Sam."

Castiel nodded. "You must've considered it,"

"Yeah, we were trying not to,"

"Sam," Cas said after a moment. "If you say yes to Lucifer, and then fail, this fight _will_ happen, and the collateral; it'll be immense."

Grace looked out of the window, hating to think of what would happen.

"There's also the demon blood," Cas added.

"What?" Grace choked.

"What are you talking about?" Sam asked.

"To take in Lucifer would be more than you've ever drunk," Cas sighed.

"But, why?" Grace asked.

"It strengthens the vessel," he told her. "Keeps it from exploding."

"But the guy he's in now-?"

"Is drinking gallons," Cas finished.

"And how is that _not_ the worse plan you ever heard?" Bobby asked.

"Because it's possible Sam could resist Lucifer," Grace sighed. They drove in silence until sun rise, where they pulled up at Niveus Pharmaceuticals.

"This is it?" Grace asked.

Bobby nodded. "Yup, they're loading up hotshots of Croatoan in the trucks. Okay, first truck doesn't leave for an hour. We get in, we plant the C-4 every twenty-five feet-"

"And then we pull the fire alarm," Grace finished. "Got it."

"And that truck is leaving," Cas said, pointing out of the front window. Grace followed his gaze and Sam and Bobby looked up and saw it too. A large, yellow lorry was pulling out of the warehouse.

"Ah, crap," Grace sighed in frustration.

"Balls!" Bobby cursed. "Okay, new plan; stop that damn truck."

"Grace, stay here," Cas said as he climbed out of the van.

"Like hell I'll stay here," she said as she followed him out. They ran towards the gate where the truck was heading, and when the driver leaned out to open the gate, Cas whacked him in the arm and Grace hit him in the head with the end of her gun.

The horn honked when the driver's head fell to the steering wheel, and then Castiel smashed the metal box of buttons which opened the gate with the gun. It sparked as he hit it.

They were about to run into the warehouse, but all the doors started to close.

"Crap," she hissed. "They know we're here."

"They'll be releasing some of the virus,"

"Then we need to get in there and stop it! We can get in through a side door, do you see one?"

Cas pointed to one which was hidden by a small tree. They ran towards it, and when Grace found out it was locked, she shot the lock on the door.

"What?" she asked Cas when she noticed he was looking at her oddly. "Sam and Dean do it all the time."

She pushed open the now unlocked door, and they stepped inside.

Castiel covered Grace's back and she covered his as they shot at the people infected with the Croatoan virus. Neither of them were as good as Sam, Dean or Bobby when it came to aiming and firing bullets accurately, but they managed to take down everyone they saw. Castiel didn't like the idea that Grace was in the middle of a war zone; he didn't know what he would do if she got hit now he didn't have any of his angelic abilities. The thought that he couldn't protect her made him feel sick to the stomach.

Grace screamed from behind him, and Cas whirled around and shot an infected man in the arm, who had grabbed Grace by the leg. She had fallen to the ground, but so had the man. Grace crawled away out of his reach, and Cas pointed the gun directly at the man's head.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," he growled, and shot him in the face.

Grace exhaled in relief. "Thanks," she said as he pulled her to her feet, although he felt as unsteady as she did.

They heard gun shots from the other side of the warehouse, and Grace ran over with Castiel at her heels. He shot an infected woman who tried to leap out at him.

Grace caught sight of Bobby struggling with his rifle, and as she ran up towards him she saw Sam on the floor, wrestling off a young man infected by the virus, who was strangling Sam.

Castiel put the barrel of his shotgun to the man's head and pulled the trigger. Sam shoved the dead guy off and panted heavily, gasping for breath.

"Actually, these things can be useful," Castiel said, holding his shotgun in his hands.

"Can we commit our act of domestic terrorism already? Let's go," Bobby said, and walked out of the warehouse with the others at his heels.

They drove back to Bobby's garage, and Dean arrived shortly after. Grace ran to him when he walked through the door.

"Whoa, I'm okay," Dean laughed, giving her a brotherly hug. "No need to celebrate, although if we have any cake…"

Grace chuckled and punched him playfully on the shoulder. "Nah, but I can make some more apple pie?" she suggested.

"Baking? In case you hadn't noticed, we're in the middle of the Apocalypse,"

"What? It calms me down," she said, and dragged Castiel with her into the kitchen.

"You can make yourself useful and help," she chuckled, and after she instructed him to start peeling and cutting the apples, he did so obediently.

They had to make two apple pies, because Castiel had dropped the first one when he took it out of the oven with his bare hands, as Grace had forgotten to tell him to wear oven gloves or he'd burn his hands.

Grace was just pulling the second apple pie out of the tiny oven, with the oven gloves on, when Dean and Sam stepped inside.

"Sam's going to say yes to Lucifer," Dean announced, and Grace dropped the apple pie all over the floor. The plate shattered and she whirled around.

"What?" she shrieked.

"Grace," Castiel soothed, placing his hand on her shoulder to calm her down. She breathed in deeply and then exhaled slowly.

"It's my decision," Sam reminded her hesitantly, and she nodded slightly.

"Are you sure that's what you want to do?" she asked him, searching for any doubt in his eyes. She couldn't find any.

"It's what I need to do," he said.

She exhaled. "Okay," she said. "What do you need us to do?"

The five of them, 'Team Free Will' as Dean had once put it, had taken a trip to an old building and killed the two demons that were inside, draining them completely of blood and filling up all the plastic containers they needed.

"Is that enough?" Grace asked Sam. Her heart was racing although she hadn't taken part in attacking and tying up the demons, but she had slit their throats and wrists to ensure they got enough blood.

"Yeah," he sighed, and picked up two of the filled containers.

She, Castiel and Sam loaded up the Impala with the demon blood, and she walked over to where Bobby and Dean were talking about where Lucifer would be.

"What've you got?" Grace asked them.

"Not much," Bobby said with a sigh. "These look like omens to you? Cyclone in Florida, temperature drop in Detroit, wildfires in L.A…"

"Wait, what about Detroit?" Dean asked.

"Temperature's dropped about twenty degrees-" Grace said, reading off the newspaper article.

"But only in a five-block radius of downtown Motown," Bobby finished.

"That's the one," Dean said, putting the rest of the newspapers in the back of Bobby's van. "The devil's in Detroit."

"Really?" Bobby asked. "As far as foreboding goes, it's a little light in the loafers. You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure,"

Grace sighed and climbed into the back of the Impala. Castiel was already sat inside, but he had shuffled over when she opened the door.

They set off driving, and a few hours later Grace heard Castiel snore beside her. She felt his head drop down onto his shoulder, and she saw Dean look over his shoulder at him.

"Ain't he a little angel," Dean muttered. Grace chuckled.

"Angels don't sleep," Sam said grimly.

"_And I don't care. He may be human but he's still Cas_," Grace thought, before drifting off to sleep as well.

Grace awoke with her head on Castiel's lap when they pulled up in Detroit, and she sat up and shook his shoulder slightly to wake him up.

"W-what?" he mumbled, opening his eyes.

"Come on, Mr. Snore. We're here," she chuckled.

He climbed out of the car after her, muttering something about the fact that Grace snores as well.

Bobby, who had already parked up and checked out the town with a pair of binoculars, walked up to them.

"Demons," he said to Dean. "At least two dozen of them. You were right; something's up."

"More than something. He's here. I know it," Dean replied, and then opened the boot of the Impala.

Sam sighed and Bobby stepped over to him. "I'll see you around, kid," he said sadly.

"I'll see you around," Sam replied, and Bobby brought him into a hug that made Grace's heart break.

"If he gets in," Bobby started. His voice cracked as he pulled away. "You fight him tooth and nail. Do you understand? Keep swinging. Don't give an inch."

"Yes, sir," Sam nodded, and Bobby stepped back.

Sam turned to Castiel and extended his hand.

"You take care of these guys, okay?" Sam asked him.

"That's not possible," Cas replied grimly, not realising it was an expression to 'try his best to'.

Sam scoffed. "Then humour me."

"Oh. I'm supposed to lie," Cas said, realising his mistake.

Grace and Sam chuckled. "Uh, sure, they'll be fine."

"Just, stop talking, Cas," Grace chuckled, but her smile faded when Sam turned to face her.

"Oh, God, I'd managed to hold it together this far," she said, and her eyes started to brim with tears. She ran into his arms and cried into his chest, not able to reach anywhere near his shoulder.

"Take care of them, Grace, like you always have done," Sam said when she stepped away.

"Me? I can't do anything to protect them," Grace sniffled.

"You do everything to protect them," Sam told her. "You don't need a gun or a knife to do your job."

Grace nodded, tears running down her cheeks, and he stepped over to the Impala.

"You mind not watching this?" Grace heard Sam ask his brother, and Dean stepped away with his back turned to Sam.

Grace turned around to face Cas and she heard Sam unscrewing the top off one of the bottles of demon blood. The angel refused to meet her eyes, but she decided not to think anything of it.

"All right," she heard Sam say to Dean. "Let's go."

The brothers stepped across the road and walked into the house where Lucifer was staying.

Castiel lifted his finger to Grace's cheek and picked up a tear onto his fingertip. She thought he was going to ask her why she was crying or how she was feeling, but instead he just opened his arms and pulled her close to him, allowing her to sob into his shoulder; which was exactly what she needed. He rested his chin on the top of her head, and muttered something that didn't sound English. Grace realised it was Enochian, and smiled through her tears; his native tongue sounded more like, well, _Cas_.

He held her until she stopped crying and pulled away.

"Are you okay?" he asked her.

She wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her trench coat. "Don't ask stupid questions," she said with a croaky chuckle, mimicking him. He smiled sadly.

Suddenly, all the lights inside the house burned bright, and Grace raised her arm to shield her eyes.

Dean walked outside alone a few minutes later. He wasn't crying, but he didn't look like he was going to hold it together for much longer.

"He's gone," he said when he reached them. His voice was broken and the tears started streaming down his cheeks. "Sammy's gone."

Grace didn't think he meant into the pit. She pulled him into a tight hug, but neither of them said anything. His strong arms squeezed her tight, and he then let her go, his jaw clenched tightly.

They saw a bunch of people crowded around a nearby television store, and when they walked across the street to it, all the televisions in the window were showing a single news channel, informing about several earthquakes happening all over the world.

"It's starting," Castiel said grimly.

"Yeah, you think, genius?" Dean said sarcastically.

"You don't have to be mean," Cas replied, and Grace shook her head slightly at him.

"So, what do we do now?" Dean asked him.

Cas shrugged. "I suggest we imbibe copious quantities of alcohol. Wait for the inevitable blast wave."

"Yes, well, thank you, Bukowski. I mean, how do we stop it?"

"We don't. Lucifer will meet Michael on the chosen field, and the battle of Armageddon begins,"

"Okay, well, where's this chosen field?"  
"Dean," Grace sighed sadly.

"Not you too," Dean said quietly, turning towards her. "You're the last person I'd have thought would give up, Grace, and you're telling me to stop and let the world end?"

"Dean, we don't even know where this 'chosen field' is!" she argued.

"There's gotta be something we can do!" he pleaded.

"I'm sorry, Dean," Castiel said. "This is over."

"You listen to me, you junkless sissy. We are _not_ giving up!" Dean shouted, and turned to Bobby for support. "Bobby?"

Bobby looked up at him with an expression of hopelessness. "There was never much hope to begin with. I don't know what else to do."

Dean walked back to the Impala and sat inside.

"I'm just gonna go talk to him," Grace said to Bobby and Castiel, and she then climbed into the passenger seat of the old car.

"Dean," Grace she said quietly. "It's just an idea, and I don't think it'd work but-"

"Grace," Dean said, cutting her off and clawing for any glimpse of hope.

"Well," she swallowed. "There's always Chuck. He might have foreseen this far, you know, he might know when and where Lucifer and Michael are going to be."

Dean pulled out his phone and dialled Chuck's number, and after a fairly long phone call, Dean slipped it back in his pocket.

"It's going to be at Stull Cemetery tomorrow, at high noon," he said to her. "I have to go."

She nodded. "I know."

Dean climbed out of the car after her, and walked back to the boot of the Impala and took out his gun.

"Are you going someplace?" Bobby asked him as Dean was about to climb back in the car. Dean didn't answer him. "You're gonna do something stupid. You got that look."

"I'm gonna go talk to Sam," Dean said.

"You just don't give up," Bobby sighed.

"It's _Sam_!" Dean shouted.

"If you couldn't reach him here, you won't be able to reach him on the battlefield," Cas said.

"Well, if we've already lost, I guess I got nothing to lose, right?" Dean said.

"I just want you to understand, that the only thing you're gonna see out there is Michael killing your brother,"

"Well, then I ain't gonna let him die alone,"

Dean slipped inside the Impala, and neither Bobby nor Castiel stopped him. The engine started and he drove off.

"You told him," Castiel said, looking at Grace. "You told him where the battle would take place."

"No, I told him to call Chuck, who told him," Grace sighed.

"Why would you do that?" Bobby asked her.

"Because he was right! Sam may be gone, but it is _not_ _the end_,"

"Grace, there's nothing left we can do," Castiel protested.

She shook her head. "Nothing left we've been told we can do. All we ever do is follow legends and rumours! Isn't it about time we made up our own? We can stop this; stop all of it! We just need to go a little… off book,"

Castiel stared into her eyes. The eyes were said to be the windows to the soul, and Cas could see hers burning bright with hope. He both admired and feared it.

"What've we got left to lose?" she asked, and Cas nodded.


	22. Chapter 20

**Chapter Twenty**:

They followed Dean to Stull Cemetery, and Grace jumped out of the van to see Dean talking to Lucifer and Michael, who were in the vessels of Sam and Adam.

"Get that angel fire thing," she said to Castiel, and he nodded and pulled out a bottle of holy oil from the back of the van. He pulled out a lighter from his trench coat pocket and set it alight.

"Hey, assbutt," he said clearly to Michael, who turned around in surprise. Cas threw the holy oil at his brother, and Michael screamed in agony and disappeared.

Grace stepped next to him.

"Assbutt?" she murmured, trying to hold back a laugh.

He shrugged slightly and then turned to Dean.

"He'll be back and upset, but you got your five minutes," he said to him.

"Castiel," Lucifer said, glaring at him. "Did you just Molotov my brother with holy fire?"

"Uh, no," Castiel scoffed, though Grace could hear the terror in his voice.

"No one dicks with Michael but me," Lucifer said. His voice wasn't any louder than normal, but Grace had to fight every instinct she had to stop herself running back to the van and driving off.

Lucifer raised his hand and snapped his fingers, and Castiel exploded into flesh and blood.

Grace felt her insides freeze and her heart stop beating.

"_No!_" she screamed, louder than ever before, and she ran at Lucifer. She no longer felt like the scared little girl who was tagging along with her fictional characters in a dream.

Lucifer, taken aback by Grace's reaction, didn't do anything immediately. She ran at him and was about to swing a punch when he caught her arm. He glared into her eyes, but she didn't feel afraid. The only emotion she had left was pure rage.

He wrapped his hands around her think neck, not affected by Grace trying to claw at his fingers.

"As if my brother could ever love a filthy human like you," he said calmly, contemplating the thought aloud.

Grace spat in his face. "Yet dear old Daddy didn't kick this filthy human down to Hell," she hissed, gasping for breath.

Lucifer dug his hand into her chest, cracking several ribs as he went, and placed his fingers around Grace's heart.

"It hurts, doesn't it," he taunted. Grace could feel herself slipping away, and the last thing she heard was Dean yelling out her name.

Dean turned to face Lucifer's vessel. "Sammy? Can you hear me?"

"You know, I tried to be nice for Sammy's sake, but you are such a pain in my ass," Lucifer said, and pushed Dean backwards into the windshield of the Impala.

Bobby pulled out his pistol and shot Lucifer in the back. He turned around, and Bobby fired again, this time hitting his chest. The devil looked down at his vessel's new wounds, and looked back up to Bobby before waving his fingers. Bobby's neck snapped.

"No!" Dean yelled.

"Yes," Lucifer said, punching Dean so he fell into his car again.

Dean grunted in pain and blood poured from his mouth onto the bonnet of his car. He turned back to Lucifer.

"Sammy?" he tried again. "Are you in there?"

"Oh, he's in here, all right," Lucifer said, and punched him again and again and again. "And he's gonna feel the snap of your bones; every single one. We're gonna take our time."

"Sammy," Dean grunted, his face swelling up and streaming with blood. "It's okay; I'm here. I'm not gonna leave you."

Lucifer raised his hand to punch Dean again, but something caught his eye; a figurine of an army soldier jammed into the ash tray of the Impala's door.

Dean watched as Lucifer's hand froze, unable to move, and then his fingers flexed out slightly.

Sam, now possessing his own body and fighting off Lucifer, grunted in pain and Dean slid down the Impala to the ground.

"It's okay, Dean," he panted. "It's gonna be okay. I've got him."

Sam pulled out the four horsemen rings from his pocket, and threw them on the grass. He chanted the spell to open Lucifer's cage, and the ground collapsed in on itself, revealing a black hole trying to suck in everything it could.

Sam looked back at Dean, and was about to jump in when a voice called out.

"Sam!" Michael shouted from a few feet away. "Step away."

"You'll have to make me!" Sam roared.

"I have to fight my brother, Sam. Here and now; it's my destiny,"

Sam closed his eyes, and fell back into the pit. Michael leapt forwards and grabbed onto Sam's shoulder to stop him, but Sam grabbed hold of the angel and pulled him into the pit with him.

The pit closed with a bright light, and Dean looked away, using his arm to shield his eyes.

Castiel awoke to a bright light, and he opened his eyes to find he was lay on the grassy field of Stull Cemetery. Lucifer and Michael were gone, and he saw Dean kneeling down on the grass, his face bloody and bruised, looking down at the four horsemen rings; the only trace of the pit ever being opened again.

Castiel stood up and walked over to his friend, who heard him and turned to look over his shoulder.

"Cas, you're alive?" Dean asked him.

"I'm better than that," Cas said, and touched Dean's forehead with a finger and healed his wounds.

"Cas, are you God?"

"That's a nice compliment, but no. Although, I do believe he brought me back; new and improved,"

Castiel walked over to where Bobby lay, and touched his forehead like he did Dean's. Bobby gasped for breath, and opened his eyes. He sat up with a grunt, and looked at Cas, who nodded and then turned to Dean.

"Where is she?" he asked, and Dean pointed to where Grace laid on grass stained with her own blood, a gaping hole in her chest.

'Grace," he murmured, and brought her cold body into his arms. Her pale skin was almost translucent, and her dark eyelashes cast shadows onto her colourless cheeks. "I'm so sorry. I was supposed to protect you and-"

"You died trying," she finished, her eyes opening slightly. Castiel felt his heart flutter in his chest.

'How are you-"

"Alive? I won't be for long if you don't fix me up, angel boy," she croaked, gasping for breath.

Castiel lifted his hand to her head and touched her temple lightly with his index finger. Her wounds healed and the blood disappeared off her body; all that was left was the stained grass around them.

"I'm so sorry, Grace, I had one job and I failed you," he muttered, his eyes closed tightly as if he were afraid to look at her. "You always deserved more than I could ever give you."

"Would you just shut the hell up and kiss me already?" she chuckled. He smiled down at her, and leant his face into hers, kissing her lips softly. She kissed him back passionately, more forcefully than she had ever done before, and Castiel could taste her tears running down her cheeks and into their mouths. She felt his tongue run along her lip, and he felt her lips part against his. Teeth grazing slightly, he kissed her hungrily as if it was both the first and the last time.

"You missed out, Cas," Dean told Castiel, stepping over towards them after they broke apart, panting slightly. "Your girlfriend was quite the badass after you, uh, exploded."

Cas frowned at her as she sat up, and she shrugged.

"What did she do?" he asked Dean, yet he didn't take his eyes off Grace's.

"She launched herself at the devil, and spat in his face," Dean laughed. Grace blushed slightly and Dean turned to her. "He said something to you, didn't he?"

"He said '_as if my brother could ever love a filthy human like you'_ and I replied with '_yet dear old Daddy didn't kick this filthy human down to Hell'_," she told Castiel a little smugly.

Cas laughed loudly and kissed her again, wrapping his arms around her waist. He heard Dean cleared his throat but they ignored him, and Grace wrapped her arms around Castiel's neck and knotted her fingers into his dark hair.

After they broke apart, Cas walked Grace over to the Impala. He opened the back door for her, and she climbed into the backseat before appeared on the seat next to her.

Dean sat in the front alone, and started the engine. Half an hour later, Grace had fallen asleep curled up next to Castiel. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and Dean turned to him.

"What are you gonna do now?" he asked the angel.

"Return to heaven, I suppose," Castiel sighed, looking down at Grace, who was snoring quietly. He felt like his heart had just shrunk to half its size, yet at the same time it felt like his chest couldn't contain it any more.

"Heaven?" Dean echoed in confusion.

"With Michael in the cage, it's going to be anarchy there,"

"What about Grace?"

Castiel took a deep breath. "I think it would be best if I took her home."

"Really?"

"She would be safer and happier with her family,"

"Happier? She loves you, Cas, she's not gonna be happy without you for a _long_ time,"

"I can't be with her anymore, Dean. I need to be in Heaven. It's not what I want to do, but I have to,"

"Wow, God gives you a brand-new shiny set of wings and suddenly you're his bitch again,"

"I don't know what God wants. I don't know if he'll even return. It just seems like the right thing to do,"

"And how do you think Grace is gonna react to it being '_the right thing to do_'?"

Castiel didn't answer.

"Well, if you do see him, tell him I'm coming for him next,"

"You're angry," Castiel observed.

"That's an understatement," Dean said. "Grace is like a little sister to me, and now God, is making my best friend leave her to become his bitch again. Of course I'm gonna be angry!"

"No one's making me do anything. He helped. Maybe even more than we realise,"

"That's easy for you to say; he brought you back. But what about Sam? What about me, huh? Where's my grand prize? All I got is my brother _in a hole_,"

"You got what you asked for, Dean," Castiel sighed. "No paradise, no hell, just more of the same."

Dean didn't answer.

"I mean it Dean, what would you rather have? Peace, or freedom?"

Dean hesitated, but when he turned to face Castiel he found that the angel was gone, and he had taken Grace with him.

"You really suck at goodbyes, you know that?" Dean muttered.

Grace awoke at her home in London. She glanced around, wondering when the last time she had a dream of her own home was.

She pulled her keys out from her trench coat pocket and stepped inside. Her flat was still as messy as she had left it all those months ago, and she put the kettle on before going into her bedroom.

Castiel was sat on the edge of her bed with his head in his hands.

"Cas?" she asked, though she wasn't surprised; he often appeared in her dreams. He looked up, but he seemed different; a little sad, maybe. "What's wrong?"

"This isn't a dream, Grace," he said. He didn't have to read her mind to guess what she was thinking.

"Then what am I doing here? You brought me here, right?"

Cas exhaled. "With Michael gone and Lucifer in the cage, there's going to be total anarchy in Heaven; even a civil war is possible. I- I need to be there."

She nodded. "Okay. Just, come back when you can."

"I need you to promise me something."

"Anything," she whispered, sitting down on the bed next to him and resting her head on his shoulder.

"I need you to forget about me,"

Grace frowned, and straightened up. She stared into his eyes, searching for meaning. "Why?" she asked quietly.

"Because you need to stay here; finish your degree, become an author, get married, have a family… I want- I need you to be safe. I'm not coming back, Grace,"

"W-what?" she choked.

"I'm so sorry,"

"You're _sorry?_ You tell me you're never going to come back, and all you can say is that you're _sorry?_" she said. Her voice was quiet, but Castiel still flinched at her words.

Grace sighed. "If this is about yesterday-"

"You _died_, Grace!"

"And I'm going to die anyway, sooner or later,"

He shook his head in frustration. "You don't understand; I need you to promise to forget about me. About everything; Dean and Sam as well. You need to promise me to live your life like you would have done without meeting us,"

"That's not something I can forget easily, Cas,"

"I know," he murmured, and he raised his hand to her face, caressing her cheek.

He leaned in to her, resting his forehead on hers, and stared into her eyes, which were brimming with tears.

He lifted his index finger to her temple and a tear escaped from her eye, and slid down her cheek.

"Don't do this, Cas, _please_," she breathed.

"I'm sorry, Grace, but I have to," he said, closing his eyes.

He erased all of her memories of the past few months, making her forget about Lucifer jumping into the pit, stopping the distribution of the Croatoan virus, going after Pestilence, killing the Whore of Babylon, kissing Castiel for the first time, being affected by Famine, going back in time to stop Anna killing Mary and John Winchester, spending the day in London with Cas, getting the Colt from Crowley, and meeting Castiel for the first time.

He exhaled, and continued to change her memories of the Supernatural convention into meeting Damian and Barnes, and roleplaying with them to hunt the 'ghosts' of the hotel. Grace would now believe she stayed with them for the past few months, and then gotten a plane home to surprise her mother. She never did read the manuscripts of the unpublished Supernatural books; that would be breaching copyright rules, wouldn't it?

Grace fell heavy in his arms, and he placed her sleeping body in her bed, tucking her in under her dark blue bed covers. He kissed her forehead, and turned away to the door.

Castiel felt a drop of water running down his left cheek, and he picked it up with his little finger. Yet it wasn't Jimmy Novak's tear; it was Castiel's.


	23. Part Two:

**Part Two:**

_The cold evening aches,_

_As it leaves in its wake,_

_All the memories left by the day,_

_And I'm questioning why,_

_As you look to the sky,_

_That is cloudless up above our heads,_

_And thoughts come to mind,_

_that our short little lives,_

_Haven't left the path that they will tread,_

_They will tread,_

_I'll come back to haunt you,_

_Memories will taunt you,_

_And I will try to love you,_

_It's not like I'm above you,_

_The wisdom we learn_

_as our minds, they do burn'll,_

_Entice the naivety in youth,_

_As adults will grow and maturity shows,_

_The terrifying rarity of truth,_

_As you turn to your mind,_

_And your thoughts they rewind,_

_To old happenings and things that are done,_

_You can't find what's passed,_

_Make that happiness last,_

_Seeing from those eyes what you've become,_

_What you've become,_

_I'll come back to haunt you,_

_Memories will taunt you,_

_And I will try to love you,_

_It's not like I'm above you,_

Haunt, Bastille

**COMING SOON**


End file.
